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Library  of 
The  University  of  North  Carolina 


KENAN  MEMORIAL  COLLECTION 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

WILLIAM  RAND  KENAN 

given  by  his  daughter 

MARY  LILY  KENAN  FLAGLER 


Devoted  to  the  History  of  the  South  in 
the  Civil  War. 


813 
G487r 

\S3g 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00008654789 


IP  •       20121 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/recollectionsofsOOgilm 


RECOLLECTIONS 


SOUTHERN   MATRON. 


BY   CAROLINE   OILMAN, 

AUTHOR    OF 
**  RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A    NEW-ENGLAND   HOUSEKEEPER." 


'  Me  thinketh  it  accordant  to  reson 
To  tellen  you  alle  the  condition 
Of  eche  of  hem,  so  as  it  seemed  to  me  ; 
And  whiche  they  weren  ;  and  of  what  degre  ; 
And  eke  in  what  avail  that  they  were  inne : 
And  at  a  knight,  then  wol  I  firste  beginne." 

Chaucer. 


?5\* 


NEW-YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  82  CLIFF-STREET. 

18  38. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  183?,  by 

Harper  &.  Brothers, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


PREFACE. 


The  "  Southern  Matron"  was  penned  in  the 
same  spirit,  and  with  the  same  object,  as  the 
"New-England  Housekeeper" — to  present  as  ex- 
act a  picture  as  possible  of  local  habits  and  man- 
ners. Every  part,  except  the  "love-passages,"  is 
founded  in  events  of  actual  occurrence.  Should  it 
be  thought  that  the  views  of  human  life  in  the  two 
works,  as  has  been  suggested  in  private,  have  too 
much  sunshine  about  them,  I  can  only  reply,  that, 
to  have  made  different  descriptions,  I  must  have 
resorted  to  imagination  instead  of  fact,  as  far  as  my 
personal  observation  is  concerned. 

Perhaps,  had  I  examined  the  details  of  the  po- 
lice-courts for  my  Northern  sketch,  or  the  registry 
of  the  magistrate-freeholders  for  my  Southern,  I 
might  have  found  gloomier  scenes  ;  but  they  would 
not  have  been  such  as  Clarissa  Packard  and  Cor- 
nelia Wilton  would  recognise  in  their  daily  experi- 
ence. 

Some  apology  may  be  necessary,  as  a  matter  of 

taste,  for  the  frequent  introduction  of  the  negro  di- 

•  alect ;  but  the  careful  reader  will  perceive  that  it 

j-  has  only  been  done  when  essential  to  the  develop- 

V  ment  of  individual  character. 

tr 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

I  am  indebted  to  one  Northern  and  two  South- 
ern friends  for  the  original  materials  of  the  story 
of  Betsey,  the  servant-maid,  the  Deer  Hunt,  and 
My  brother  Ben's  education,  all  of  which  I  have 
modified  to  my  narrative. 

C.  G. 

Charleston,  S.  C,  1837. 


RECOLLECTIONS 


SOUTHERN    MATRON- 


CHAPTER  i. 

OLD    JACQUE. 

"  Onward, 
O'ershadowed  more  by  the  green  underwood, 
Some  slight-raised  mounds  showed  where  the  dead  were  laid. 
Few  gravestones  told  who  slept  beneath  the  turf. 
(Perchance  the  heart  that  deeply  mourns  needs  not 
Such  poor  remembrancer.)    The  forest  flowers 
Themselves  had  fondly  clustered  there — and  white 
Azahas  with  sweet  breath  stood  round  about, 
Like  fair  young  maidens  mourning  o'er  their  dead. 
In  some  sweet  solitude  like  this  I  would 
That  I  might  sleep  my  l?st  long  dreamless  sleep." 

Anna  Maria  Wells. 

"  He  sought  him  through  the  bands  of  fight, 

Mid  many  a  pile  of  slaughtered  dead, 
Beneath  the  pale  moon's  misty  light, 

With  form  that  shuddered  at  each  tread  : 
For  every  step  in  blood  was  taken." 

W.  G.  SIMMS. 

I  write  in  my  paternal  mansion.  The  Ashley,  with 
a  graceful  sweep,  glitters  like  a  lake  before  me,  reflect- 
ing the  sky  and  the  bending  foliage.  Occasionally  a 
flat,  with  its  sluggish  motion,  or  a  boat,  with  its  urging 
sail,  passes  along,  and  the  woods  echo  to  the  song  or 
the  horn  of  the  negro,  waking  up  life  in  the  solitude. 
The  avenue  of  noble  oaks,  under  which  T  sported  in 
childhood,  still  spread  their  strong  arms,  and  rustle  in 
the  passing  breeze.  My  children  are  frolicking  on  the 
lawn  where  my  first  footsteps  were  watched  by  tender 
parents,  and  one  of  those  parents  rests  beneath  yonder 


10  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

circling  cedars.  Change  !  Sameness  !  What  a  perpet- 
ual chime  those  words  ring  on  the  ear  of  memory  !  My 
children  love  to  lead  me  to  the  spot  where  they  may 
spell  the  inscription  on  one  princely  monument  to  my 
grandfather,  and  hear  the  tale  I  have  to  tell  of  the  fair, 
the  good,  and  the  brave  who  sleep  in  that  enclosure,  sa- 
cred to  the  domestic  dead.  There  is  but  one  inscription 
there,  for  we  were  as  one. 

I  sometimes  feel  a  joy  that  all  are  here — my  grand- 
parents ;  the  mother  who  gave  me  being ;  the  baby-sister, 
who  looked  like  a  sunbeam  on  the  world  and  passed 
away  ;  my  first-born,  he  who  was  twined  to  my  heart's 
pulses  by  ties  as  strong  as  those  which  call  up  its  natural 
vibration ;  my  noble  brothers,  and  my  poor  cousin  Anna, 
who  planted  herself  the  rose  that  blossoms  on  her  grave  ! 
The  sun  gilds  the  cedars  with  his  brightest  morning  hue  ; 
they  shelter  the  sleepers  from  his  noonday  beams  ;  and 
when  the  moon  rises  over  the  cleared  fields,  showing  an 
amphitheatre  of  distant  woods,  the  cedar-mound  stands 
out  in  full  relief,  and  those  dark  sentinels  seem  to  guard 
the  dead.  I  thank  thee,  Heaven,  that  all  I  love  are  here  ! 
— that  stranger-dust  mingles  not  with  mine  !  The  tu- 
mult o.ffcthe  city  rolls  not  across  this  sanctuary ;  careless 
curiosity  treads  not  on  these  secluded  graves  ;  nor  does 
the  idler  cull  the  blossoms  that  affection  has  planted,  or 
that  time,  with  unsparing  hand,  has  hung  in  graceful 
wreaths  or  clustered  beauty  around.  No  rude  sound 
disturbs  the  silence.  The  whippoorwill  softens,  by  her 
melancholy  lay,  the  mockbird's  tale  of  love  and  joy. 
The  hare  steals  lightly  over  the  hillocks,  and  the  serpent 
twines  his  silken  folds  among  the  herbage  ;  yet  do  they 
not  mar,  like  man,  the  sacred  relics  of  memory,  nor  with 
jest  and  profanity  disturb  the  gloom. 

My  grandfather  fell  early  in  our  national  struggle  for 
liberty,  and  his  bones  might  have  whitened  on  the  battle- 
field, had  not  a  locket,  containing  the  fair  hair  of  my 
grandmother,  suspended  from  his  neck,  revealed  him  to 
a  faithful  servant.  Good  old  Jacque  !  How  often  have 
I  climbed  his  knees  to  hear  his  stories  of  the  past!  I 
even  love  to  recall  the  peculiar  accent  with  which  he  be- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  11 

gulled  our  evenings,  when  appointed  by  our  parents  to 
superintend  the  younger  servants  in  their  absence.  I 
can  fancy  I  see  him  now,  in  winter,  throwing  the  oak 
logs  or  lightwood  knots  on  the  wide  hearth,  standing  (for 
he  never  would  sit  in  the  house,  even  in  the  presence  of 
the  children,  unless  when  holding  us  on  his  knees)  with 
a  perpetual  habit  of  conscientious  trust ;  or,  in  summer, 
seeking  some  sunny  spot,  and,  with  his  blue  handkerchief 
tied  round  his  head,  employing  his  feeble  hands  in  net  or 
basket  making.  Rarely  could  he  resist  our  Southern  en- 
treaty of,  Do,  if  you  please,  daddy  Jacque,  tell  us  about 
grandpapa's  locket,  and  how  he  died. 

Jacque  had  been  intrusted  with  the  entire  control  of 
his  young  master's  household  during  the  term  of  his  edu- 
cation in  Europe  ;  and  while  the  confidence  placed  in 
him  had  somewhat  increased  his  self-conceit,  it  never  in- 
duced him  to  take  a  liberty  beyond  those  which  his  pe- 
culiar situation  authorized.  Roseland,  from  the  beauty 
of  its  location  and  its  valuable  paintings,  was  frequently 
Visited  by  strangers  in  the  absence  of  its  orphan  proprie- 
tor, and  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  Jacque  was  never  known 
to  ascend  the  hall  stairs  on  such  occasions.  He  pointed 
out  the  way  with  a  bow  and  flourish  of  profound  respect, 
and  met  the  guests  by  a  private  stairway  after  they  had 
ascended. 

His  master  returned,  married  a  lovely  and  highly-edu- 
cated Southern  girl,  and  the  following  year  Roseland  was 
made  doubly  beautiful  by  the  birth  of  a  noble  boy,  the 
pride  of  the  house  and  plantation.  This  happiness  was 
not  of  long  duration,  for  the  times  approached  which  tried 
American  souls,  and  the  young  father  was  called  from 
the  peaceful  sunshine  of  his  home,  from  the  caresses  of 
his  wife  and  the  prattle  of  his  child,  to  the  wild  and 
stormy  hardships  of  war.  The  night  before  his  depar- 
ture his  wife  led  him  to  his  likeness  by  Copley,  which 
still  hangs  in  the  hall,  and  perused  his  lineaments  long 
and  earnestly.  She  gazed  on  the  manly  form  beside  her, 
then  on  the  graceful  but  inanimate  representative,  took 
in  the  loving  glance  of  the  living  eye,  and  compared  it 
with  its  calmer  image  ;  then,  with  a  bitter  sigh,  sank  into 


12  RECOLLECTIONS    OF 

his  arms.  The  young  soldier  comforted  her  with  a  hus- 
band's love,  and  drew  her  to  the  bedside  of  their  sleep- 
ing boy.  Little  Henry  started  from  his  repose  as  they 
bent  over  him  with  whispered  words,  clung  to  his  father's 
neck  a  moment,  and  then  closing  his  eyes  like  the  bell  of 
a  twilight  flower,  sank  upon  his  pillow. 

With  his  beautiful  wife  still  resting  on  his  arm,  the  fa* 
ther  took  from  his  desk  a  locket  containing  her  hair, 
threw  the  black  riband  from  which  it  was  suspended 
about  his  neck,  and  kissed  it  fondly.  The  night  passed 
heavily  away,  and  darkness  heavier  than  night  hung  over 
Roseland,  when,  on  the  following  morning,  he  departed, 
attended  by  Jacque. 

In  an  engagement  with  the  British,  Jacque  lost  sight 
of  his  master ;  the  enemy  were  victorious,  and  the  Amer- 
icans retreated,  leaving  their  dead  unprotected.  When 
the  pursuers  were  exhausted,  Jacque  searched  with  anx- 
iety among  the  living,  and,  finding  no  trace  of  him,  re- 
turned with  sad,  cautious,  but  resolute  steps  to  the  field 
of  death.  Among  the  disfigured  remains  he  vainly  en- 
deavoured for  a  long  time  to  distinguish  him ;  he  who 
had  so  lately  reposed  in  the  arms  of  happy  love,  had 
found  a  cold  and  bloody  bed  with  the  promiscuous  slain, 
among  whom  not  even  faithful  friendship  could  detect  his 
semblance.  At  length  Jacque  found  on  a  mutilated  form 
a  locket,  with  its  braid  of  auburn  hair.  He  shook  his 
head  with  an  expression  of  satisfied  grief,  and  wiped  the 
bloody  jewel  with  his  coat  sleeve.  Then  bearing  the 
body  to  a  stream,  cleansed  it  reverently,  dug  a  grave,  and 
laid  it  in  its  place  of  rest.  Touched  and  kindled  by  af- 
fectionate remembrance,  he  knelt  on  the  pliant  mould,  and 
offered  up  an  untutored  prayer. 

It  was  a  dark  and  stormy  evening  when  he  returned, 
and  my  grandmother  had  kept  her  young  son  awake,  with 
gentle  artifice,  for  companionship.  A  footstep  was  heard, 
m  the  piazza,  and  Dash  gave  a  growl  between  warning 
and  recognition,  while  Henry,  clapping  his  hands,  ex- 
claimed, "  Papa !  papa  !"  His  mother  started  as  Jacque 
entered,  and  exclaimed,  "Where  is  your  master1?" 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  13 

Jacque  was  silent,  and  stood  wiping  from  his  cheeks 
the  streaming  tears. 

"  Tell  me,  Jacque,  for  the  love  of  God,"  cried  she, 
clasping  the  negro's  arm,  "  where  is  your  master  !" 

"  Jacque  got  no  maussa  now,"  said  he,  sobbing,  "  but 
little  Maus  Henry." 

A  long  and  piercing  shriek  broke  forth  from  the  wid- 
ow's stricken  heart,  and  she  fell  senseless  on  the  floor 
beside  her  frightened  son. 

The  intelligence  spread  rapidly  through  the  plantation. 
Shrieks  and  lamentations  were  heard  from  hut  to  hut — 
wild  gesticulations  were  seen  by  the  kindled  torchlights 
among  the  young,  as  they  cried,  "  My  maussa  dead,  poor 
me  !" — while  the  old,  rocking  on  their  seats  and  lifting 
their  hands,  responded,  "  The  Lord's  will  be  done.  He 
knows." 

The  following  day  all  was  calm  but  the  widow's  heart ; 
there  the  bitter  strife  of  a  new  sorrow  raged  like  a  tem- 
pest. Even  Henry's  presence  was  intolerable.  Poor 
boy  !  his  very  step  was  harsh  to  her,  as,  with  a  paper 
cap  and  wooden  sword,  he  marched  about  her  apartment, 
threatening  to  revenge  his  father's  death. 

Jacque  was  for  several  days  revolving  a  measure  of 
importance  in  his  own  mind ;  and  at  length,  determining 
to  give  it  utterance,  went  to  claim  a  few  moments'  atten- 
tion from  his  mistress. 

She  could  only  shade  her  eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out  too 
painful  an  object,  and  with  one  hand  pressed  closely  on 
her  heart,  as  though  to  hush  its  tumult. 

"  Jacque  don't  mean  no  disrespec,"  said  the  negro, 
bowing,  as  if  his  errand  had  something  in  it  of  dignity  ; 
"  my  missis  know  dat  as  my  missis  is  poorly,  and  Maussa 
Henry  an't  got  of  no  size,  Jacque  has  to  turn  over  what 
is  best  to  be  done  for  de  family  ;  and  one  great  trouble  it 
is  on  my  mind,  dat  my  maussa,  what  provide  like  one 
lord  even  for  niggers,  let  alone  white  folks,  should  lay 
out  mong  de  wolf  and  varmin,  when  we  could  gie  'em 
such  good  commodation  here,  and  keep  our  eye  on  him, 
to  say  nothing  of  Christian  buryin." 

My  grandmother  was  instantly  roused ;  and,  starting  up, 
B 


14  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A 

with  an  animated  voice  she  said,  "  My  dear,  good  Jacque, 
can  he  be  brought  to  me  1  God  bless  you  for  the 
thought !" 

A  motive  for  action  was  now  given  her,  and  her  heart 
seemed  lightened  of  a  part  of  its  burden.  It  was  a  con- 
solation to  her  to  take  Henry  by  the  hand,  and  go  forth 
in  search  of  an  appropriate  spot  for  her  husband's  grave. 
It  seemed  to  her  excited  imagination  like  preparing  an 
apartment  for  an  absent  friend. 

"  Here,  mamma,"  said  her  prattling  boy,  "  is  a  pretty 
place.  Papa  used  to  stand  under  this  tree  and  throw 
chips  into  the  pond  for  Dash  to  bring  to  me." 

"  No,  my  son,"  said  his  mother,  musingly  ;  "  it  is  too 
far.  I  must  see  the  spot  from  my  window.  Look, 
Henry,  at  the  cluster  of  cedars  on  that  slightly-rising 
ground.  See  how  the  sun  shines  on  the  tree-tops,  while 
all  beneath  is  gloom !  Like  my  hopes,"  she  continued, 
mentally,  "  so  lately  seeming  bright  when  all  was  dark- 
ness. That  shall  be  the  spot,  Henry,"  she  continued, 
"  and  you  must  see  that  I  am  laid  there  too." 

The  boy  looked  wistfully  at  her,  and  said,  "And  where 
shall  I  go,  mamma'?" 

He  had  unconsciously  touched  the  right  string;  and,  as 
she  stooped  to  kiss  his  forehead,  she  patiently  resolved 
to  wait  God's  will,  and  live  for  him. 

While  these  scenes  of  tenderness  were  beguiling  the 
feelings  of  the  widow,  Jacque,  with  a  band  of  fellow- 
servants,  went  on  his  melancholy  errand.  Even  to  the 
imagination,  which  only  partially  illuminated  the  unedu- 
cated mind  of  the  negro,  the  contrast  was  strong  between 
the  aspect  of  that  now  silent  field,  and  the  recent  period 
when  contending  forces,  with  weapons  flashing  in  the  sun, 
and  faces  tinged  with  expectation,  and  footsteps  timed  to 
the  march  of  war,  had  passed  before  him.  It  was  a 
moonlight  night,  one  of  those  nights  which  seem  to  ex- 
aggerate brightness  and  stillness,  when  Jacque  led  the 
way  to  his  master's  rude  grave. 

"  'Tis  a  pretty  sight,  my  young  maussas  and  missis," 
he  used  to  say,  when  relating  this  story,  while  we  stood 
with  inward  tremour,  almost  expecting  the  pictures  of 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  15 

■our  grandparents  to  start  from  their  frames ;  "  'tis  a  pretty 
thing  for  see  one  corpse  lay  out  handsome  on  he  natural 
bed,  wid  he  head  to  de  east,  and  he  limb  straight,  and  he 
eye  shut,  and  he  white  shroud,  and  de  watchers  sing 
psalm ;  but  'twas  altogedder  onnatural  to  see  my  poor 
maussa  wid  de  ragiments  on,  and  de  varmin  busy  bout 
him,  and  de  moonlight  shine  down,  and  de  owl  hoot. 
Dem  niggers  (natural  fools)  get  scare  when  we  get  to 
maussa  self ;  den  says  I,  '  My  men,  how  you  been  let 
folks  say  dat  we  have  Christian  grave,  while  our  maussa, 
what  fed  us  and  kivered  us,  was  laying  mong  wolf? 
It's  an  ugly  job,  but  to  it,  my  men  ;  and  as  it  is  a  disre- 
spec  to  sing  "  heave  ho,"  one  of  you  strike  up  a  hymn  to 
help  us  on.' " 

There  was  no  ear  to  listen  to  those  sounds  as  they  rose 
up  on  the  midnight  air,  no  eye  to  appreciate  that  intrepid- 
ity which  could  conquer  the  dread  of  superstitious  igno- 
rance. I  am  wrong.  He  who  formed  hearts  in  one  mould 
did  not  disregard  them. 

They  placed  the  remains  of  the  soldier  in  the  coffin 
brought  for  them,  and  closed  it  reverently. 

The  widow,  nerved  for  the  obsequies  of  her  husband, 
reclined  in  silence,  with  Henry  by  her  side.  Friends 
from  the  city  and  neighbouring  plantations  sat  or  stood 
in  whispering  circles,  shrouded  by  scarfs,  and  hoods,  and 
weepers,  each  holding  a  sprig  of  rosemary  twined  with 
white  paper  ;  the  glasses  and  pictures  were  turned  to  the 
wall,  and  every  article  of  taste  covered  with  a  white 
cloth.  Labour  was  suspended,  the  household  servants 
stood  in  the  piazza  clothed  ifi  mourning,  and  the  field- 
slaves,  with  such  little  testimonials  of  external  respect  as 
they  could  beg  or  borrow,  arranged  themselves  .below. 
The  coffin  was  brought  to  the  piazza,  its  costly  orna- 
ments riveted,  and  little  Henry  held  up  to  see  the  in- 
scription. In  the  city,  after  a  recent  decease,  the  widow 
would  have  remained  secluded  in  the  formality  of  grief; 
but  in  this  case  there  seemed  to  be  a  call  for  a  represent- 
ative mourner  ;  and,  taking  Henry's  hand,  she  followed 
the  six  negro  female  waiters  dressed  in  white,  with  nap- 
kins pinned  over  their  shoulders,  who  were  preceded  by 


16  RECOLLECTIONS   OP  A 

the  coffin,  which  was  borne  by  his  people,  attended  by 
the  pall-bearers,  friends  of  the  deceased.  The  proces- 
sion passed  on,  followed  by  the  servants,  to  Cedar  Mound. 
The  coffin  was  lowered,  "  dust  to  dust"  was  pronounced 
over  it,  and  the  earth  fell  upon  its  glittering  decorations. 
Henry  clung  to  his  mother,  crying,  "  Papa,  come  back," 
while  the  lamentations  and  shrieking  howl  of  the  negroes 
filled  the  air.  The  widow  looked  on  with  zealous  scru- 
tiny until  the  last  spadeful  of  earth  was  deposited  on  the 
swelling  mound ;  then  taking  her  son  home,  retired  to 
her  apartment,  where  her  heart  only  knew  its  own  bitter- 
ness. 

The  boy  soon  forgot,  in  childish  blessedness,  the  fu- 
neral of  his  father,  and  his  notes  of  happiness  rang 
through  the  mansion ;  but  how  achingly  did  his  mother's 
thoughts  for  lingering  years  dwell  in  sad  revery  on  her 
husband's  grave.  And  it  is  on  that  spot  that  my  eye 
now  turns.  She  trained  the  various  vines  over  its  white 
paling,  and  planned  the  monument  sacred  to  her  first  be- 
loved. There  little  Henry  loved  to  play  with  the  falling 
leaves,  or  gather  spring  flowers ;  there  his  mother  laid 
her  head,  crowned  with  reverend  honours  ;  there  my 
mother  lies ;  and  there  may  my  limbs  be  borne  when 
God  shall  call  my  spirit.  But  no  gloom  rests  upon  it. 
It  has  always  been  a  favourite  scene  for  the  children  of 
our  household.  It  is  not  enough  that  grief  should  go 
there  and  lay  down  its  earthly  treasure,  or  that  old  age 
should  moralize  beneath  its  shades ;  happy  voices,  like 
Henry's,  may  still  be  heard  in  its  enclosure,  and  the  crisp 
and  fresh  winter  rose  that*my  own  Lewis  has  thrown  in 
my  lap  he  gathered  from  poor  cousin  Anna's  grave. 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  17 


CHAPTER  II. 

COLLEGE  FRIENDSHIP  AND  COLLEGE  LOVE. 

*'  Look,  when  I  vow  I  weep  ;  and  vows  so  born, 
In  their  nativity  all  truth  appears." 

Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

"  Too  soon,  oh  all  too  soon — will  come 
In  later  years  the  spell,-* 
Touching  with  changing  huas  the  path 
Where  once  but  sunlight  fell." 

Frances  S.  Osgood. 

From  the  day  of  his  father's  death,  Henry  was  mon- 
arch of  all  he  surveyed  ;  his  mother  gazed  on  him  with 
eyes  of  untiring  love  ;  the  elder  servants  fostered  him  with 
protecting  pity ;  and  a  troop  of  young  ones  followed  his 
steps,  to  serve  and  sport  with  him. 

The  softness  inspired  by  constant  indulgence  was 
counteracted  by  the  scenes  of  danger  to  which  this  very 
indulgence  permitted  him  to  resort.  He  managed  a  horse 
incredibly  soon,  and,  long  before  a  city  boy  had  poised  a 
gun,  was  in  the  fields  winning  his  own  dinner.  Though 
startled  by  his  daring,  his  mother  soon  felt  pride  in  the 
deer's  horns  and  fox's  skins  that  he  suspended  from  the 
hall,  and  the  fish  caught  by  him  tasted  fresher  than  from 
any  other  hands.  Henry  was  one  of  the  busiest  beings 
on  the  wide  earth.  His  horse,  his  hounds,  his  rabbits, 
his  terapins,  his  birds,  &c,  gave  him  incessant  occupa- 
tion between  his  hours  of  study.  He  was  a  lad  of  wild 
and  warm  affections,  and  no  one  knew  whether  he  threw 
his  arms  around  his  horse's  or  his  mother's  neck  with  the 
most  ardour.  With  great  quickness  of  capacity  he  con- 
trived to  glean  an  education  from  his  private  tutor,  and 
was  fitted  for  college.  Long  were  the  discussions  on  his 
future  destination  ;  at  length  it  was  decided  that  he  should 
enter  Harvard  College,  and  his  mother,  with  a  sweet  mag- 
nanimity, consented  to  give  up  her  boy  for  those  long, 
long  four  years. 

B2 


18  RECOLLECTIONS  OF    A 

It  was  Henry's  sixteenth  birthday,  on  a  spring  morn- 
ing, when  his  travelling  apparatus  was  deposited  in  the 
piazza,  and  he  stood  with  his  mother  to  see  Jacque  turn 
the  last  key.  The  field-hands  who  could  form  any  ex- 
cuse had  gathered  to  bid  him  farewell.  They  were  all 
very  sad,  and  one  (his  nurse)  was  weeping  bitterly. 
The  negro  children  stood  on  the  lawn  with  a  thoughtful  air, 
watching  the  preparations  for  his  departure.  Henry  was 
f"  determined  to  bear  the  separation  like  a  man,  but  Jacque 
1  was  unusually  irritable.  He  kicked  the  dogs,  called  the 
little  boy  who  held  the  travelling  bag  a  "  black-faced  nig- 
ger," and  hit  the  leading  horse  such  a  blow  on  the  side 
of  the  head,  that  his  mistress  called  him  to  order. 

"  Eberyting  go  wrong  to-day,  missis,"  said  Jacque  in 
an  apologetic  tone. 

Grandmamma  and  Henry  dared  not  trust  a  long  em- 
brace. Why  should  they,  when  her  arms  had  encircled  him 
sixteen  years,  and  when  she  had  stolen  to  his  room  the 
night  before  and  slept  on  his  very  pillow,  while  his  cheek 
unabashed  nestled  close  to  hers  1  He  shook  hands  with 
all  the  people,  and  "  God  bless  my  young  maussa  !"  was 
heard  from  one  to  the  other  as  they  courtesied  or  bowed 
low  at  his  farewell.  "  Don't  cry,  Nanny,"  said  he  to  his 
nurse,  as  her  audible  sobs  struggled  through  the  apron 
she  had  thrown  over  her  face. 

"  Old  Nanny  an't  gawing  for  see  Maus  Henry  no  more 
-     in  dis  worl !"  said  she.      "  Nanny  live  long  enough  now, 
if  Maus  Henry  no  stay  wid  dem  dat  raise  him." 

Jacque  had  stood  somewhat  aloof,  as  if  he  did  not  con- 
sider himself  as  belonging  to  the  general  group ;  and  it 
was  not  until  after  Henry  was  seated  in  the  carriage  with 
his  tutor,  that,  with  an.  evident  struggle  and  a  preparatory 
hem !  he  said, 

"  Good-by,  Maus  Henry.  Take  care  you  no  dishon- 
our de  family.  Keep  straight,  my  young  maussa,  walk 
close.*  Jacque  can  manage  missis  bery  well,  and  not- 
ting  an't  gawing  for  trouble  she  ;  but  who  gawing  for 
take  care  Maus  Henry  but  God  Almighty  V 

*  These  expressions  are  very  common  among  the  negroes,  and  sig- 
nify, be  correct ;  be  pious. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  19 

Henry  was  admitted  pretty  fairly  at  Harvard,  and  his 
collegiate  life  flowed  on  happily.  No  one  rode  such  spirited 
horses  as  he  ;  his  coat  was  cut  with  the  latest  touch  of 
fashion ;  the  tie  of  his  cravat  was  a  study,  his  flute  inim- 
itable ;  the  graceful  solemnity  of  his  bow  supplied  the 
Want  of  deeper  knowledge  ;  and  a  happy  facility  of  expres- 
sion carried  him  over  his  recitations  ;  many  a  poor  student 
blessed  his  liberality,  and  many  a  dull  one  his  quickness  ; 
the  cheerfulness  of  his  manners  won  him  golden  opinions  ; 
and  he  who  had  been  attended  by  slaves  from  infancy 
was  seen  carrying  his  own  bowl  of  milk*  or  chocolate 
across  the  college-yard,  with  a  bow  and  jest  for  all ;  his 
classmates  caressed  him,  the  fair  smiled  upon  him,  and 
Henry  Wilton,  the  southerner,  was  pronounced  a  noble 
fellow. 

He  graduated  with  a  secondary  college  honour,  but  it 
was  sufficient  to  hang  a  splendid  dinner  upon.  Happy 
they  to  whom  his  invitations  came  before  any  other 
sealed  up  the  avenue  of  acceptance  ! 

The  young  graduate  was  the  star  of  commencement- 
day.  His  sparkling  countenance,  graceful  manner,  fine 
oratory,  and  a  few  appropriate  compliments  to  the  ladies, 
bore  off  peals  of  applause,  while  more  elaborate  essays 
were  unheeded  by  the  audience.  He  had  secured  for  his 
entertainment  the  splendid  line  of  Boston  belles,  who, 
in  floating  veils  and  flower-wreathed  curls,  with  "  lips 
apart,"  leaned  from  the  crowded  galleries  to  listen  to — 
him  ! 

A  richly-prepared  table  was  laid  under  a  decorated  awn- 
ing on  a  green  in  an  enclosure,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  the  colleges.  Thither  his  guests  resorted  after  the 
exercises  were  concluded  ;  and  Henry,  flushed  with  suc- 
cess, floating  on  the  very  clouds  of  youthful  excitement, 
led  the  way,  with  the  mother  of  Lucy  Sullivan  on  his  arm. 
And  Lucy  followed  with  his  friend  Winthrop.  Was  it  an 
August  sun  that  kindled  up  her  cheek  in  such  a  glow  of 
rosiness,  or  was  it  that  Henry,  as  he  guided  the  -mother, 


*  A  custom  for  which  the  meals  in  the  commons  hah  is  now  a  sub- 
stitute. 


20  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

looked  back  on  the  beautiful  girl,  and  catching  a  fold  of 
her  veil,  retained  it  gently  in  his  hand  ] 

It  required  no  little  circumspection  to  thread  the 
mazes  of  the  Cambridge  common  on  commencement- 
day.  At  one  moment  they  justled  against  a  square- 
capped  professor ;  at  another  came  in  contact  with  a 
crowd  around  a  merry-andrew  ;  now  a  gowned  orator, 
with  his  coloured  riband  or  medal,  the  badge  of  a  soci- 
ety, swept  by  ;  and  now  they  were  impeded  by  flocks 
of  children  hurrying  to  the  booths  for  confectionary  ; 
here  was  a  mob  of  rioters  simply  kept  from  violence 
by  constables,  and  there  pressed  a  bevy  of  laughing 
girls  in  the  airy  dress  of  a  ball-room,  escorted  by  young 
collegians. 

The  excitement  was  increased  by  the  ordinarily  quiet 
habits  of  the  Cambridge  residents.  Over  that  wide,  I 
open  common,  then  diversified  only  by  a  few  graceful 
elms,  usually  brooded  the  deepest  silence  and  monotony, 
scarcely  interrupted  by  the  thoughtful  student  conning  to 
the  air  his  appointed  task,  or  the  laggard  hurrying  to  his 
recitation.  And  the  airy-decorated  figures  of  the"  city 
ladies  were  equally  opposed  to  the  simple  costume  of  the 
Cambridge  girls.  Indeed,  until  within  a  few  years,  one 
might  almost  know  a  Cambridge  lady  by  the  plainness  of 
her  attire  and  the  absence  of  external  accomplishments, 
contrasted  with  the  cultivation  of  her  mind. 

Henry  soon  saw  his  guests  seated  at  his  rich  banquet, 
and  attended  them  with  cheerful  grace,  while  the  little 
pleasantries  of  untasked  intellect  flew  around.  What 
was  wanting  to  his  happiness  1  On  one  side  was  Lucy 
Sullivan,  with  a  mingled  look  of  trust  and  bashfulness 
varying  on  her  young  cheek,  and  on  the  other  his  class- 
mate Winthrop,  pledged  a  friend  for  weal  or  wo. 

But,  as  the  festivity  rose,  Lucy's  brow  began  to  sadden. 
"  You  are  silent,  Miss  Sullivan,"  whispered  Henry.  "  I 
go  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  this  day  should  be  sa- 
cred to  smiles." 

He  stopped,  for  he  saw  a  tremulous  motion  on  her  lips  ; 
and,  before  she  could  control  herself,  a  tear  stole  down 
her  burning  cheek.     He  withdrew  his  eyes  from  hers ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  21 

and,  selecting  a  piece  of  myrtle  from  a  bouquet  near  him, 
carried  it,  unobserved  but  by  her,  to  his  lips,  and  laid  it 
on  her  ungloved  hand. 

A  few  honeyed  words  were  spoken  as  at  the  close  of 
the  dinner  he  committed  her  to  the  care  of  a  Cambridge 
friend,  and  Winthrop  and  himself  sallied  to  the  college 
hall  to  join  the  commencement  dinner-party,  to  which 
they  were  entitled  as  graduates.  The  company  had 
dined,  and  were  just  rising  to  unite  in  the  hymn  which, 
from  an  early  period,  has  thrown  a  sacred  charm  over 
this  literary  festival.  The  venerable  president,  clergy- 
men collected  from  every  quarter,  statesmen,  lawyers, 
graduates,  and  invited  guests,  all  stood  reverently,  and 
responded  with  the  tune  of  St.  Martin's,  as  two  lines  at  a 
fttime  were  read  by  one  of  the  professors.* 

There  was  no  coldness  in  the  solemn  strain  that  up- 
rose from  that  assembly,  but  busy  associations  were  in 
every  breast,  as  they  thus  linked  their  alma  mater  with 
religious  responsibilities. 

*  PSALM. 

Sung  statedly  at  the  Commencement-dinner  in  Harvard  College,  to  the 
tune  of  St.  Martin's  ;  the  company  standing. 

"  Give  ear,  ye  children  ;  to  my  law 
Devout  attention  lend ; 
Let  the  instructions  of  my  mouth 
Deep  in  your  hearts  descend. 

"  My  tongue,  by  inspiration  taught, 
Shall  parables  unfold ; 
Dark  oracles,  but  understood, 

And  own'd  for  truths  of  old  : 

• 

"  Which  we  from  sacred  registers 
Of  ancient  times  have  known  ; 
And  our  forefathers'  pious  care 
To  us  has  handed  down. 

"  Let  children  learn  the  mighty  deeds 
Which  God  perform'd  of  old ; 
Which,  in  our  younger  years,  we  saw, 
And  which  our  fathers  told. 

"  Our  lips  shall  tell  them  to  our  sons, 
And  they  again  to  theirs  ; 
That  generations  yet  unborn 
May  teach  them  to  their  heirs." 


22  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

This  feeling  was  a  happy  preparation  to  Henry  and 
Winthrop,  when,  retiring  from  the  hall  linked  arm  in 
arm,  they  resolved  to  visit  Sweet  Auburn,*  to  view  the 
glories  of  a  dying  sunset  together,  and  pledge  again  their  , 
vows  of  friendship.  They  were  full  of  sweet  communing, 
and  poured  out  those  feelings  which  youth  only  knows. 
'  They  carved  their  names  in  a  circle  on  a  tree,  and  ex- 
changed books,  those  precious  ties  for  intellectual  friend- 
ship. Henry  had  traced  on  a  Horace  the  trite  but  expres- 
sive couplet — 

"  Where'er  I  go,  whatever  realms  I  see, 
My  heart  untravelled  fondly  turns  to  thee" — 

and  Winthrop  wrote  on  a  rich  edition  of  Gray's  poems 
the  following  extract : — 

"  Ah,  te  me«e  si  partem  animse  rapit 
Maturior  vis,  quid  moror  altera, 
Nee  carus  aeque,  nee  superstes 
Integer?"* 

Horace. 

They  lingered  in  this  heart  intercourse  until  the  rising 
moon  lighted  up  the  distant  spires  of  the  city,  and  tinged 
the  Charles  with  its  quiet  beauty.  How  often  had  they  on 
that  very  spot  looked  to  this  moment  as  a  bright  and  ver- 
dant point  in  their  existence  !  It  had  come  ;  the  ties  of 
four  years  spent  in  growing  manhood  were  to  be  severed. 
Were  they  happy  1  If  they  were,  happiness  has  sighs 
and  tears.  With  hand  clasped  in  hand  they  looked  far 
down  into  each  other's  hearts,  more  busy  with  memory 
than  hope.  They  could  not  tear  themselves  away. 
Again  they  gazed  on  the  Giant's  Grave — they  lingered 
on  Moss  Hill ;  they  plighted  solemn  vows  in  the  Dell, 
and  a  tenderness,  shaded  like  the  parting  twilight,  stole 
over  their  souls. 

It  was  a  sultry  night ;  and  the  moon's  rays,  usually  so 
clear  and  cool,  were  like  the  noon  sun  to  Lucy  Sullivan, 
as  they  came  through  her  curtained  window  and  shone 

*  Now  Mount  Auburn  Cemetery. 

t  "  Alas,  if  thou  untimely  hnste  away, 

Half  of  my  soul  !  oh  why  should  I  delay  ? 
Why  keep  the  other  half,  its  value  gone, 
Bereft  of  thee  to  languish  here  alone  !" 


SOUTHERN    MATRON,  23 

on  her  restless  slumber.  A  sound  awoke  her,  a  single 
flute — the  tune,  a  familiar  air  of  tender  farewell.  With 
a  delicious  tremour  she  started,  threw  off  the  cap  that 
bound  her  braided  hair,  and  looked  from  behind  the  folded 
curtain.  The  music  ceased  ;  a  well-known  figure  siood 
leaning  against  a  tree,  gazing  upward.  Not  a  word  wag 
spoken.  Why  speak  when  every  pulsation  of  the  heart 
tells  a  tale  of  tenderness  1  Lucy  held  her  very  breath, 
and  not  until  the  serenader  moved,  waved  his  hat,  bowed 
with  a  low  obeisance  towards  the  window,  and  disap- 
peared, did  she  seem  to  respire  ;  then,  with  a  sigh  that 
appeared  to  bear  away  her  very  being,  she  sank  on  her 
bed  and  burst  into  tears. 

In  a  few  days  Henry  WTilton  departed  for  the  south. 
A  vision  of  one  with  a  depth  of  tenderness  in  her  blue 
eyes,  which  would  have  made  them  .grave  but  for  the 
buoyancy  of  her  step,  often  came  across  his  memory  as 
he  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  vessel,  and  gazed  on  the 
northern  stars. 


Three  years  elapsed,  and  he  married  an  Edisto  belle 
with  "  whole  acres  of  charms  ;"  and  when  memory  asked, 
"  Where  is  Lucy  Sullivan  V  echo  answered,  "  Where  V 

At  a  still  later  period  he  visited  New-England.  Col- 
onel Wilton — for  papa  had  acquired  honours — was  intro- 
duced to    Mr.    Winthrop,    senator    from    county. 

They  shook  hands,  spoke  of  the  politics  of  the  day,  and 
parted. 

And  Lucy  Sullivan,  where  was  she  1  For  a  brief 
space  the  myrtle  was  cherished,  partly  in  tenderness, 
partly  in  hope,  and  laid  within  the  leaves  of  a  book  near 
a  sentimental  rhyme.  Time  passed  away  ;  and  one  day, 
when  William  Russell,  after  urging  his  suit,  had  placed 
unchecked  a  golden  circlet  on  her  forefinger,  and  was 
leaning  over  a  book  watching  her  eyes  to  know  when  he 
should  turn  the  leaves,  a  withered  myrtle  sprig  dropped 
from  the  page,  which  with  her  handkerchief  Lucy  quietly 
brushed  away.  It.  fell  at  her  feet,  and  was  crushed  by 
an  unconscious  movement.     The  house-maid  sweeping 


24  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

the  next  morning  wondered  how  Miss  Lucy  could  drop 
so  much  litter  on  the  carpet. 

And  thus  ended  college  love  and  college  friendship. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE    COUNTRY    FUNERAL. 

Why  should  old  age  escape  unnoticed  here, 

That  sacred  era  to  reflection  dear  ? 

That  peaceful  shore  where  passion  dies  away, 

Like  the  last  wave  that  ripples  o'er  the  bay  ? 

Oh,  if  old  age  were  cancell'd  from  our  lot, 

Full  soon  would  man  deplore  the  unhallow'd  blot  I 

Life's  busy  day  would  want  its  tranquil  even, 

And  earth  would  lose  her  stepping-stone  to  heaven." 

S.  GlLMAN". 

"  Years  have  past — 

Yet  still, 
When  by-gone  days  do  visit  me, 

Some  secret  spell 
Enchains  me  to  that  spot,  and  once  again 
I  meet  the  soften'd  and  religious  glance 
Of  that  fair  matron's  eye  ;  and  though  my  ear 
Hath  listen'd  to  rare  music — 
The  full  deep  cadence  of  some  queen-like  one 
Trying  her  harp's  fine  pulses,  and  been  stirr'd, 
E'en  as  an  instrument  with  cunning  sounds 
Of  ravishing  vibration,  yet  not  one 
Seems  now  so  grateful  to  my  thirsting  ear 
As  that  fond  son's  '  my  mother  V  " 

Mary  E.  Lee. 


r 


Mamma  possessed  more  than  "  whole  acres  of  charms," 
for  though  not  brilliant,  she  was  good-tempered  and  sen- 
sible. A  demure  look  and  reserved  manner  concealed 
a  close  habit  of  observation.  She  would  sit  in  company 
for  hours,  making  scarcely  a  remark,  and  recollect  after- 
ward every  fact  that  had  been  stated,  to  the  colour  of  a 
riband  or  the  stripe  of  a  waistcoat.  Home  was  her  true 
sphere  ;  there  everything  was  managed  with  promptitude 
and  decision,  and  papa,  who  was  a  politician,  a  candi- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  25 

date  for  military  honours,  a  commissioner  of  roads,  a 
churchwarden,  a  "  mighty  hunter,"  and  withal  an  active 
planter,  was  glad  to  find  his  domestic  arrangements  quiet 
and  orderly.  No  one  ever  managed  an  establishment 
better  ;  but  there  was  no  appeal  from  her  opinions,  and  I 
have  known  her  ever  eloquent  in  defending  a  recipe. 
She  was  well  entitled  to  her  opinions  ;  for  though  papa 
often  returned  from  the  city  or  the  chase  with  unex- 
pected strangers,  I  never  saw  her  labouring  under  embar- 
rassment. Her  sausages  were  pronounced  to  be  the  best 
flavoured  in  the  neighbourhood ;  her  hog's  cheese  (the 
English  brawn)  was  delicacy  itself;  her  curds,  made  in 
a  heart-mould,  covered  with  nutmeg  and  cream,  won  the 
hearts  of  many  a  guest ;  her  clabber  was  turned  at  that 
precise  moment  when  a  slight  acidity  tempers  the  in- 
sipidity of  milk :  her  wafers  bore  the  prettiest  devices, 
or  were  rolled  in  the  thinnest  possible  consistency ;  her 
shrimps,  pickled  or  fresh,  were  most  carefully  prepared  ; 
her  preserved  watermelons  were  carved  with  the  taste 
of  a  sculptor ;  her  hjHnmony  looked  like  plates  of  gathered 
snow ;  corn  and  rice  lent  all  their  nice  varieties  to  her 
breakfast ;  and  her  boiled  rice  answered  to  Shakspeare's 
description,  for  "  each  particular  grain  did  stand  on  end," 
or,  to  use  a  more  expressive  term,  crawled.  And  all  these 
delicacies  were  laid  on  your  plate  so  silently,  with  a 
look  that  seemed  to  say,  "  No  one  will  observe  you  if 
you  do  eat  this  little  bit  more."  An  orange  leaf,  which 
when  crushed  in  the  hand  sent  out  a  pleasant  odour,  was 
laid  on  every  finger  bowl.  A  cheerful  fire  blazed  on  the 
bedroom  hearths  in  winter,  a»d  flowers  ornamented  them 
in  spring,  while  I  was  early  taught  to  lay  fresh  roses  on 
the  pillows  of  strangers. 

I  recollect  mamma  most  distinctly  at  the  breakfast- 
table.  She  entered  the  room  almost  invariably  followed 
by  her  maid  Chloe,  bearing  her  small  basket  of  keys. 
She  wore  a  neat  morning-dress,  with  plaited  frills,  a 
tasteful  cap,  her  hands  decorated  with  rings,  holding  a 
handkerchief  of  exquisite  fineness,  and  her  gold  watch 
suspended  from  her  belt,  with  its  face  outward.  Chloe, 
with  a  turban  of  superior  height  (for  there  is  great  am- 
C 


26  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

bition  in  the  fold  of  a  negro's  turban),  stood  behind  hei 
chair  with  the  basket  of  keys.  Her  usual  office  was  to 
dress  and  undress  her  mistress  every  morning  and  even- 
ing, and  perform  all  offices  of  personal  attendance.  To 
her  taste  mamma  often  referred  in  the  choice  of  a  dress 
for  the  day,  for  Chloe's  taste  was  unquestionable/ 

We  sat  while  papa  asked  a  blessing  in  a  Tow  tone. 
This  is  a  patriarchal  and  beautiful  custom,  connecting,  as 
it  does,  earthly  blessings  with  "  the  Giver  of  every  good 
and  perfect  gift ;"  but  it  should  either  be  performed  in 
the  Quaker  style,  in  silence,  or  with  distinct  and  earnest 
emphasis.  My  brother  John  was  a  bright,  observing 
boy,  and  yet,  at  the  age  of  ten  years,  he  said  to  mamma 
in  a  whisper  one  day,  as  if  fearing  he  was  asking  some- 
thing wrong,  "What  does  papa  mean  by  tollol  at  the  end 
of  the  blessing  V 

;'  John,"  exclaimed  she,  "  is  it  possible  that  you  do 
not  know  that  he  says  '  our  Lord  V  " 

"  I  always  thought  it  was  tol  lol,"  said  John,  blushing 
to  the  very  eyes. 

I  mention  this  fact,  for  it  actually  occurred,  as  a  pas- 
sing hint  to  those  whose  duty  it  is  to  lead  the  religious 
thoughts  of  the  young.  One  clear  idea  is  too  precious  a 
treasure  to  lose. 

It  was  through  similar  carelessness  that,  while  kneel- 
ing beside  mamma  at  night,  or  standing  to  recite  my  cat- 
echism to  her  every  Sabbath,  I  learned  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
that  simple  yet  sublime  gift  to  man,  as  "  Our  Father 
chart  in  heaven  ;"  nor  was  I  disabused  of  this  impression 
until  my  own  mind  wrought  it  out  for  me  by  after  reflec- 
tion. 

My  best  religious  impressions  were  derived  from  my 
grandmamma.  Her  suffering  heart  had  felt  their  needT 
her  strong  mind  had  tried  their  value,  and  she  possessed 
the  golden  faculty  of  turning  earth's  fleeting  sands  into 
the  scale  of  heaven. 

If  ever  the  cradle  of  declining  age  was  gently  rocked, 
it  was  by  those  who  circled  around  the  venerable  form 
of  my  grandparent  at  Roseland.  A  certain  tenderness 
gathered  over  papa's  manner  whenever  he  addressed  her ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  27 

there  was  even  a  softened  gallantry  in  his  air,  as  he  led 
her  to  the  coolest  seat  in  the  piazza,  or  the  warmest  by 
the  hearth.  A  lofty  beauty  still  sat  upon  her  brow,  the 
same  which  dwells  on  the  features  of  her  portrait,  by 
Copley,  in  Roseland  Hall.  Her  hair,  bleached  like 
snow,  was  as  fine  in  its  texture,  and  was  singularly  con- 
trasted by  the  sunny  curls  of  her  youth.  The  influence 
of  her  manners  was  evident  on  the  plantation,  producing 
an  air  of  courtesy  even  among  the  slave's.  It  was  beau- 
tiful to  witness  the  profound  respect  with  which  they 
regarded  her.  Nanny,  Jacque's  sister,  was  her  wait- 
ing-maid, and  herself  a  fine  specimen  of  that  quiet, 
graceful  respect  often  discerned  among  our  elder  ser- 
vants./ Nanny  still  lives,  and  is  my  especial  care.  On 
sunny  days  she  is  brought  up  to  the  piazza  in  an  arm- 
chair, where  she  revives  from  a  gentle  stupor  at  the  sight 
of  familiar  objects.  Her  children's  children  play  on  the 
lawn,  but  I  sometimes  think  my  Eleanor  awakens  stronger 
interest  even  than  they,  from  her  resemblance  to  her 
mistress.  A  few  ideas  only  linger  on  the  old  woman's 
mind  ;  the  strongest  of  which  is  breathed  in  the  form  of 
a  prayer  that  she  may  "  walk  in  dis  worl  so  to  see  mis-  | 
sis  in  heaven." 

One  autumn  evening,  in  my  childhood,  when  the  sun- 
set began  to  look  cold,  and  the  first  whirling  leaves 
were  brought  to  our  feet,  we  arrived  from  our  summer 
residence  on  our  annual  visit  to  Roseland.  Premoni- 
tions of  hastening  decay  had  been  seen  in  grandmamma, 
and  she  had  evinced  a  gentle  impatience  to  be  once 
more  an  inmate  of  her  favourite  home.  She  could  no 
longer  walk  without  assistance,  and  papa  proposed  that 
she  should  pass  on  directly  through  the  hall  to  her  bed- 
room. 

"  I  will  rest  here,  if  you  please,  my  son,"  said  she, 
quietly  ;  and  as  her  still  speaking  eye  dwelt  on  the  like- 
ness of  her  husband,  we  understood  her. 

"  If  the  people  wish  to  see  me,  let  them  come  now," 
said  she  to  Nanny.  Her  will  was  a  law  to  us,  and  the 
negroes  were  summoned,  while  we  arranged  pillows  for 
her  to  recline  on  the  sofa.     She  received  them  kindly  ;  to 


28  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

one  giving  a  word  of  advice,  to  another  of  comfort ;  she 
inquired  into  their  wants,  and  expressed  her  sympathy  in 
their  joys  and  sorrows. 

"  See  that  mammy  Srfe  has  extra  blankets  this  winter, 
my  son.  Daddy  Charles  tells  me  he  is  too  feeble  to 
mend  his  own  roof — set  some  hands  to  work  upon  it  be- 
fore the  cold  weather." 

Jacque  had  stood  behind  her  chair  with  Nanny  during 
this  interview. 

"  Jacque,"  said  his  mistress. 

"  My  missis,"  said  Jacque. 

"  You  remember  your  master,  Jacque  ?" 

"  My  lor,  missis  !  me  an't  got  no  membrance,  if  me 
an't  member  maussa,  just  like  a  yesterday." 

"You  know  where  I  am  to  be  laid?"  said  grand- 
mamma. 

"  Yes,  missis,  Jacque  know  berry  well ;"  and  he  wiped 
away  an  unaffected  tear. 

"  I  must  tell  you  all  how  d'ye  and  good-by  together," 
said  she,  "  for  I  am  going  very  fast ;"  then  extending  her 
hand  to  each  in  turn,  she  said  a  few  more  words  of  com- 
fort and  blessing.  "  God  bless  my  old  missis  !"  "  Many 
tanks,  my  old  missis,"  was  heard  amid  stifled  sobs,  as, 
with  their  aprons  or  handkerchiefs  to  their  eyes,  they 
withdrew. 

Grandmamma  rested  a  few  moments,  and  we  stood  in 
silence. 

"  Cornelia,  dear,"  said  she  to  me,  "  you  are  the  eldest, 
and  most  resemble  your  grandfather,  and  I  will  give  you 
the  locket ;"  and  she  suspended  it  with  a  beautiful  chain 
from  my  neck.  I  could  not  speak,  and  my  brothers,  with 
a  sudden  understanding  of  the  scene,  stood  with  looks  of 
sorrowful  earnestness. 

I  glanced  at  the  locket  through  my  tears,  and  they 
flowed  faster  as  I  traced  a  gray  lock  entwined  with  its 
bright  ringlet. 

"  Henry,  my  son,  I  will  go  to  my  bedroom,"  said  she. 
On  reaching  the  door,  she  turned  round  deliberately  and 
gazed  on  the  portrait  of  her  early  love.  We  saw  her  lips 
move,  but  her  voice  was  not  heard.     Then,  recollecting 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  29 

herself,  she  said,  "  Excuse  me,"  with  that  graceful  and 
lofty  air  so  peculiarly  hers. 

She  never  left  her  apartment  again.  A  rapid  but  gen- 
tle decay  came  on ;  so  gentle,  that  when  my  brothers  and 
myself  were  told  that  she  was  dead,  and  saw  first  the 
bustle  and  then  the  careful  tread  of  mourners,  we  could 
scarcely  comprehend  it.  But  we  did  realize  something 
appalling  when  we  were  carried  by  papa  to  take  a  last 
look  of  his  beloved  parent.  I  never  saw  him  so  much 
moved.  He  kissed  again  and  again  her  pale  forehead ; 
and  then,  with  a  long,  long  gaze,  dwelt  on  her  features,  so 
still  and  unansvvering.  I  can  comprehend  now  that  gaze. 
I  know  how  the  mind  rushes  back,  in  such  moments,  to 
infancy,  when  those  stiffened  hands  were  wrapped  around 
us  in  twining  love  ;  when  that  bosom  was  the  pillow  of 
our  first  sorrows  ;  when  those  ears,  now  insensible  and 
soundless,  heard  our  whispered  confidence  ;  when  those 
eyes,  now  curtained  by  unlifted  lids,  watched  our  every 
motion.  I  know  the  pang  that  runs  through  the  heart, 
and  I  can  fancy  the  shrieking  voice  within  which  says, 
"  Thou  mightst  have  done  more  for  thy  mother's  happi- 
ness, for  her  who  loved  thee  so !" 

Then,  however,  I  experienced  not  this.  A  fearful  awe 
overpowered  me,  the  feeling  of  the  supernatural.  I 
fancied  that  the  eyes  were  opening — I  saw  the  shroud 
heave  on  the  cold  breast — the  white  sheet  waved — I 
reeled,  and  should  have  fallen,  but  for  papa's  arms.  Oh, 
dark,  dark  moment,  when  the  fear  of  death  is  roused 
without  its  hopes,  and  we  see  the  gloom  of  the  grave 
untinged  by  the  dawn  of  salvation. 

I  was  carried  from  the  room,  and  aroused  by  the 
strange  contrast  without.  True,  every  face  was  'serious, 
but  there  was  the  bustle  of  preparation — a  cool  criticism 
on  propriety.  Jacque  and  Nanny  were  reverentially 
covering  the  portraits  of  their  beloved  master  and  mis- 
tress with  a  white  cloth,  preparatory  to  the  funeral.  I 
saw  that  though  their  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  yet  not  a 
fold  was  left  on  its  smooth  surface  ;  and  mamma,  who  had 
been  a  most  dutiful  and  affectionate  child,  warned  the 
jmen  who  were  bringing  the  coffin  not  to  graze  the  ma- 
C2 


30  RECOLLECTIONS    OP   A 

hogany  table.  I  felt  a  shock  upon  my  youthful  mind 
when  I  perceived  these  seeming  incongruities  ;  but  I  have 
since  found  that  there  are  two  currents  running  through 
every  heart,  one  rising  from  our  high  immortal  nature, 
and  the  other  springing  from  sensations  immediately  about 
us.  All  we  can  do  with  the  latter  is  to  bear  with  them, 
and  turn  them,  if  possible,  to  good. 

It  was  on  that  mournful  occasion  that  I  felt  the  first 
struggle  of  conscience  in  the  vanity  of  a  new  suit  of 
mourning.  I  tried  to  be,  perhaps  I  was  sorry  in  assu- 
ming it,  but  glanced  at  the  mirror  to  observe  if  it  was  be- 
coming. I  remember  my  brothers'  looks  of  importance 
as  they  dressed  for  the  funeral,  and  my  correcting  their 
pride  in  order  to  screen  my  own.  John  and  I  walked 
together  after  our  parents  to  Cedar  Mound.  He  irresist- 
ibly stepped  into  a  march.  I  twitched  his  arm.  Still 
he  stepped  forward  with  great  manliness.  "  John,"  said 
I,  in  unaffected  indignation,  "  are  you  not  ashamed  to 
march  at  a  funeral  V 

Thus,  even  at  that  early  age,  we  betrayed  that  love  of 
observances  which,  though  necessary  to  our  earthly  con- 
dition, may  check  so  fatally  our  spiritual  growth. 

Neither  John  nor  I  realized  that  our  venerable  friend 
was  gone  until  we  reached  Cedar  Mound.  Then  the 
recollection  of  her  last  resting-place  burst  on  our  young 
hearts.  How  often  had  we  strayed  there  with  her,  and 
heard  her  gentle  voice  in  love  and  tenderness !  How 
sacredly  had  she  tended  those  flowers,  and  told  us  that 
we,  like  them,  would  die  and  bloom  again  !  The  coffin 
was  lowered ;  we  should  see  her  no  more  on  earth ; 
and,  as  the  birds  sent  forth  their  songs,  and  her  tame 
fawn  came  forward  and  gave  a  wistful  look  on  the  grave, 
our  youthful  voices  rent  the  air,  and  we  felt  the  mournful 
truth  that  we  had  indeed  lost  a  friend. 

Venerable,  even  beautiful  old  age,  beautiful  when  the 
glow  of  kindness  lingers  on  the  wrinkled  brow  and  ani- 
mates the  lips  !  Let  youth  catch  thy  parting  rays,  which 
illuminate  it  as  the  dying  sunshine  illuminates  the  sapling 
and  flower. 

Virtuous  old  age !  we  will  listen  to  the  lengthened 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  31 

story  of  thy  large  experience.  Even  Heaven  scorns  not 
to  add  up  thy  gathered  store  of  goodness,  and  thou  shalt 
see  it  in  glittering  numbers  on  the  "  book  of  life." 

Dying  old  age !  Let  us  dwell  on  the  link  connecting 
thy  form  with  eternity,  and  then  gaze  on  the  soul's  char- 
iot, as,  disencumbered  of  clay,  it  rises  heavenward  among 
the  parting  clouds ! 

Grave  of  the  aged'!  Let  us  all  pause  often  at  thy 
sanctuary,  where  the  waves  of  this  world  roll  off,  and 
leave  us  alone  with  God  J 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MR.  JOSEPH    BATES,    THE    YANKEE    LAD. 

"  A  shallow  brain  behind  a  serious  mask, 
An  oracle  within  an  empty  cask, 
He  says  but  little,  and,  that  littte  said, 
Owes  all  its  weight,  like  loaded  dice,  to  lead." 

Cowper's  Conversation. 

My  education  and  that  of  my  brothers  had  been  gen- 
erally superintended,  except  when  the  boys  were  at  city 
schools,  by  a  succession  of  governesses.  I  beg  pardon  ; 
this  honourable  name  is  not  popular  in  America.  I  think 
we  speak  of  them  as  young  ladies  who  stay  with  us  to 
teach  our  children.  Our  winters  were  passed  at  Rose- 
land,  with  an  occasional  visit  to  Charleston  ;  our  sum- 
mers at  a  Pine-land  settlement;  and  this  arrangement 
rendered  it  necessary  that  our  teachers  should  reside 
under  our  roof. 

John,  and  Richard,  and  I  had  fairly  grown  beyond  pet- 
ticoat government.  When  called  upon  to  recite,  we 
laughed  behind  our  books,  and  turned  our  lessons  into 
fun.  When  reading  in  history  of  the  irruption  of  the 
Gauls,  we  spread  several  plasters,  and  handed  them  to 
our  teacher,  with  the  direction,  "  To.  Miss  Susan  Wheeler, 
to  cure  the  disease  of  the  Gauls."     One  day,  when  she 


32  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

entered  our  room,  she  observed  our  heads  bent  over  our 
books,  when  lo,  on  our  raising  them,  she  found  that  we 
had  covered  them  with  coloured  wafers,  which  gave  us 
a  fearful  but  grotesque  expression.  When  we  recited  an 
account  of  the  origin  of  writing  by  hieroglyphics.,  we  let 
a  paper  drop  from  our  book,  describing  Miss  Susan  in  the 
Egyptian  mode.  This  primitive  style  was  more  than 
Miss  Wheeler  could  bear,  particularly  as  we  unkindly  ad- 
verted to  some  personal  defects.  Ridicule  is  the  hardest 
draught  in  the  world  to  swallow,  and  she  told  papa  she 
must  decline  teaching  us  in  future.  Mamma  never  inter- 
fered with  our  education,  and  her  passive  virtues  as  a 
mother  remind  me  of  a  tribute  of  praise  I  once  heard 
given  to  a  clergyman  by  one  of  his  congregation.  "  We 
have  an  excellent  minister  ;  he  never  meddles  with  reli- 
gion, nor  politics,  nor  none  of  these  things."  She  was 
scrupulously  attentive,  however,  to  our  dress  and  general 
manners,  and  her  care  put  to  shame  the  mother  who,  on 
being  asked  by  one  of  her  children  to  comb  his  hair,  an- 
swered, that  she  was  busy  sewing  for  the  children  in 
Burmah  ! 

In  consequence  of  Miss  Wheeler's  resignation,  papa 
sent  the  following  advertisement  to  the  Charleston  papers. 

"  A  gentleman  of  cultivated  mind  and  polished  man- 
ners, with  proper  credentials,  will  hear  of  an  eligible  sit- 
uation as  private  teacher  for  a  family  of  children  in  the 
country.     Inquire  at  this  office." 

"  You  rogue,"  said  papa,  tapping  me  on  the  shoulder 
with  his  riding-whip,  "  and  you  little  rascals,"  shaking  it 
smilingly  at  the  boys,  "  don't  think  to  play  any  more  of 
your  pranks  !  I  will  put  you  under  a  man's  care ;  so 
look  out ;  you  have  made  Miss  Wheeler  as  thin  as  a 
fishing-rod." 

We  really  loved  our  teacher  for  her  amiable  temper, 
and,  turning  to  her,  half  choked  her  with  caresses,  ex- 
claiming, 

"  Do,  if  you  please,  don't  give  up  teaching  us  !  We 
will  behave.     We  will  behave  good." 

Her  determination  was  not,  however,  to  be  shaken  by 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  33 

our  entreaties,  and  she  soon  departed  to  another  family 
to  "  incline"  more  docile  "  twigs." 

I  remember  the  debut  of  our  new  tutor  as  if  it  were 
yesterday.  Having  had  no  tasks  for  several  weeks,  we 
were  revelling  in  all  the  glory  of  country  freedom.  One 
day,  when  our  parents  were  out,  we  proposed  an  excur- 
sion in  the  woods.  John  rode  on  his  beautiful  mare 
Jenny.  He  had  amused  himself  the  night  before  by 
manufacturing  what  he  called  a  Robinson  Crusoe  dress, 
that  is,  trimming  an  old  hunting  cap  and  jacket  with  rack- 
oon  skins.  Not  satisfied  with  their  regular  position,  he 
wore  them  now  with  their  back  parts  in  front.  Equally 
intoxicated  with  fun,  Richard  and  I  mounted  a  mule  to- 
gether. He  exchanged  my  bonnet  for  his  hat,  while  I 
put  his  hat  over  my  tangled  curls.  Jim,  our  favourite 
attendant,  a  reckless  black  boy  of  sixteen,  rode  a  horse 
which  we  were  not  allowed  to  use,  and  triumphed  not  a 
little  in  the  caracole  of  his  steed,  while  our  mule  paced 
quietly  along.  We  were  attended  by  an  immense  reti- 
nue of  little  negroes,  some  with  infants  on  their  backs, 
and  others  pulling  along  those  who  could  run  alone,  de- 
termined to  keep  up  with  us  as  long  as  possible,  and  all 
making  characteristic  remarks. 

"  Bro'*  Jim  ride  more  better  dan  Maus  John,  for  true," 
said  one. 

"  Ha  !"  said  another,  striding  a  gum-tree  branch,  "  gie 
me  one  horse,  and  I  show  you  how  for  ride !" 

If  I  have  described  our  appearance  correctly,  language 
is  inadequate  to  represent  the  clamour  that  was  issuing 
from  the  group  when,  turning  a  point  on  entering  the  av- 
enue, we  came  in  immediate  contact  with  a  gentleman  in 
a  horse  and  ehair.  We  thought  directly  who  it  might  be. 
T  confess  I  felt  prodigiously  ashamed,  and  quick  as 
thought  exchanged  head-gear  with  Richard.  The  stran- 
ger was  evidently  startled  by  this  singular  assemblage ; 
but  collecting  himself,  said, 

*  Brother.    The  terms  daddy,  maumer,  uncle,  aunty,  broder  and 
titter  (brother  and  sister),  are  not  confined  to  connexions  among  the 
blacks,  tiiey  seem  rather  to  spring  from  age. 
B3 


34  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

"  I  reckon  you  could  tell  me  if  this  is  Colonel  Wilton's 
farm  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  John,  bowing  politely,  for  he  had  a 
good  deal  of  his  papa  about  him ;  "  this  is  Colonel  Wil- 
ton's plantation.  Boys,  run  ahead,  and  open  the  gate  for 
the  gentleman." 

A  scampering  commenced,  and  tumbling  head  over 
heels,  with  an  evident  desire  to  display  their  agility,  the 
most  active  reached  the  gate  leading  to  the  lawn,  where 
they  stood  respectfully,  until  the  stranger,  who  sat  par- 
ticularly straight,  passed  through. 

We  held  a  consultation,  and  at  last  concluded  that  our 
parents  would  be  angry  if  we  did  not  go  and  entertain 
the  visiter. 

After  a  necessary  smoothing  of  hair  and  washing  of 
faces,  we  sallied  down  to  the  apartment  where  he  sat,  as 
erect  as  an  arrow,  with  the  palms  of  his  hands  joined, 
and  the  fingers  crossed,  except  the  two  fore  fingers,  which 
stood  out  straight. 

We  lingered  outside  the  door  before  seeing  him,  to 
compose  ourselves  properly  ;  with  now  and  then  a  sup- 
pressed giggle,  and  now  an  urgent  whisper  to  each  other 
to  go  first,  or  an  occasional  application  of  my  brothers' 
heels  to  each  other's  bacfts.  At  last,  in  a  general  scuf- 
fle, we  were  all  precipitated  forward  together  into  the 
presence  of  the  stranger. 

We  scrambled  up,  and,  after  a  few  stifled  s7iorts  (the 
only  word  that  can  express  the  act),  contrived  to  com- 
pose ourselves  ;  speaking  was  out  of  the  question  ;  a 
word  would  have  upset  our  gravity.  Richard  stole  away, 
while  John  and  I  sat  kicking  our  heels  against  our  chairs, 
until  a  note  on  papa's  silver  whistle  announced  his  wel- 
come return. 

The  gentleman  arose,  and,  after  a  preliminary  remark, 
presented  papa  with  a  paper  from  his  large  flat  pocket- 
book.     I  peeped  over  papa's  arm,  and  read  with  him — 

"  This  is  to  certify,  that  Mr.  Joseph  Bates,  the  bearer, 
is  in  good  standing  with  the  church  and  congregation  at 
,  Connecticut.  Ezekiel  Duncan,  Pastor.'1'' 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  35 

I  did  not  then  interpret  papa's  smile  ;  but  I  have  thought 
since  how  ludicrous  it  must  have  seemed  to  him  to  re- 
ceive a  certificate  of  good  standing  in  a  church,  when  he 
had  advertised  for  testimonials  to  a  teacher  with  culti- 
vated mind  and  polished  manners. 

While  papa  is  receiving  the  solemn  introduction  of  our 
new  candidate,  let  me  recall  his  history.* 

Mr.  Joseph  Bates  was  the  son  of  a  Connecticut  farm- 
er, that  race  of  men  who,  by  their  high  moral  qualities, 
contribute  so  much  to  the  stability  and  honour  of  our 
country.  Joseph,  when  a  boy,  was  employed  in  tying 
fagots,  driving  the  cows,  husking  corn,  hoeing  potatoes, 
&c,  &c.  He  attended  the  district  school,  which  is  open 
in  New  England  the  three  winter  months,  when  work  is 
slack.  There  he  was  taught  reading,  writing,  spelling, 
and  Daboll's  Arithmetic.  It  was  observed  that  he  was 
never  so  happy  as  when  he  had  washed  his  hands  after 
work,  and  sitten  down  by  the  kitchen  fire  with  an  alma- 
nac in  his  hand.  Perhaps  sufficient  praise  has  not  been 
awarded  to  these  little  vehicles  of  knowledge,  these  na- 
tional annuals,  which,  gliding  noiselessly  into  the  retreats 
of  ignorance,  throw  abroad  rays  of  science,  and  warm  up 
the  germes  of  heart  and  mind. 

Joseph  sat  for  hours  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  crabs 
and  scales  in  the  zodiac,  with  a  kind  of  mysterious  de- 
light. He  looked  to  the  weather  department  with  the 
faith  of  a  child,  read  the  wise  sayings  with  the  voice  of 
an  oracle,  and  was  even  known,  as  a  shrill  blast  came 
whistling  through  the  door,  shaking  the  very  settle  on 
which  he  sat,  to  exclaim, 

"  See,  winter  comes  to  rule  the  varied  year." 

The  only  joke  he  was  ever  heard  to  utter  was  from 
the  same  fruitful  source. 

Joseph  availed  himself  of  his  privilege  of  a  quarter  ev- 
ery year  at  the  district  school  up  to  the   lawful  age  of 

*  In  illustration  of  this  description,  I  beg  leave  to  state,  that  a  Con- 
necticut gentleman  at  the  South  told  me  recently,  that  he  asked  a 
pedler  who  had  come  from  his  neighbourhood  if  the  increased  tax 
nad  not  injured  the  members  of  his  craft.  "  Oh,  I  don'i  know,"  said 
he,  "  I  guess  not,  as  they  have  pretty  much  turned  schoolmasters." 


36  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

twenty-one.  He  could  cast  up  accounts,  and  wrote  a 
tolerable  hand,  but  was  no  nearer  to  the  mysteries  of  the 
zodiac.  It  is  customary  for  young  men,  in  his  quarter  of 
the  country,  to  associate  themselves  in  a  class  for  the 
winter  months,  under  the  teaching  of  the  parish  clergy- 
man, who  is  willing  to  advance  the  cause  of  learning,  and 
aid  his  scanty  resources,  by  a  trifling  pecuniary  compen- 
sation from  an  evening  school.  At  the  age  of  twenty-one, 
Joseph  became  a  member  of  the  Rev.  Ezekiel  Duncan's 
class,  to  which,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  he  resorted,  with 
hair  duly  sleeked  over  his  forehead,  and  well-brushed 
Sunday  suit.  Access  to  Mr.  Duncan's  instruction  and 
library  for  three  months  made  a  wonderful  move  in  Jo- 
seph's mind.  Familiar  with  many  things,  which  made 
his  good  old  parents,  aunt  Patty,  and  sister  Nancy  stare, 
he  began  to  think  himself  competent  to  any  intellectual 
effort. 

At  this  period    the  captain  of  a  Charleston  trading 

schooner  came  to to  visit  his  relations,  and  renewed 

a  boyish  intimacy  with  Joseph.  This  intercourse  pro- 
duced a  restless  desire  of  change  in  our  incipient  tutor. 

"  I  calculate,  captain,"  said  he,  after  a  long  stroll 
through  the  town,  where  the  sailor  had  gone  to  indulge 
those  associations  which  come  up  like  young  verdure 
over  the  most  hardened  souls,  "  I  calculate  it's  pretty  dif- 
ficult to  git  edication  down  at  Charleston." 

"  Dreadful  difficult,"  s'aid  the  captain ;  "  I  reckon  they 
an't  much  better  than  niggers." 

"  An't  you  agreeable,  captain,"  said  his  friend,  "  to  my 
going  down  to  Charleston,  and  trying  what  I  can  do  to 
help  them  a  trifle  at  schooling  V 

The  captain  thought  it  Avould  be  a  praiseworthy  thing, 
and  matters  were  laid  in  train  to  effect  the  object  as  soon 
as  possible.  Mr.  Duncan  was  the  only  person  opposed 
to  the  project ;  but  his  advice,  though  delivered  almost  in 
a  tone  of  warning,  sounded  feebly  on  Mr.  Bates's  excited 
tympanum. 

His  sister  Nancy  laid  out  a  pocket  piece,  which  had 
been  kept  for  show,  in  buying  him  a  third  Sunday  shirt ; 
his  mother  sat  up  day  and  night  to  knit  him  six  pairs  of 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  37 

worsted  hose ;  two  were  of  blue  yarn,  two  of  gray,  and 
two  mixed,  for  variety ;  and  his  aunt  Patty,  whose  pet  he 
had  been  from  childhood,  borrowed  the  suit  of  a  New 
Haven  apprentice,  who  had  run  up  to  see  his  friends,  to 
cut  out  Joseph's  in  the  last  fashion. 

For  some  days  he  was  seen  in  frequent  conference 
with  a  pedler — they  approached,  retreated,  parlied  ;  once 
or  twice  there  were  signs  of  actual  warfare  ;  but  at  length 
Joseph  came  off,  we  know  not  at  what  loss,  with  a  large 
silver  watch,  which  he  boasted  kept  excellent  time. 
Joseph  humoured  it,  as  we  ought  to  humour  our  nervous 
friends  or  capricious  servants  ;  and  when  he  found  that  it 
actually  lost  one  quarter  of  an  hour  in  every  twenty-four, 
he  said,  philosophically, "  he  guessed  that  was  better  than 
hurrying  him  to  death  by  going  too  fast." 

How  fortune  favours  enterprise  !  The  second  day 
after  his  bargain  he  called  at  one  of  his  neighbours  to 
bid  them  farewell.  There  was  a  great  commotion  among 
the  daughters,  and  a  scramble  to  get  something  from  one 
of  their  parboiled  hands. 

I  must  stop  a  moment  to  say  how  sweet  and  healthy 
farmers'  families  have  appeared  to  me  in  my  northern  ex- 
cursions, just  dressed  from  their  Monday  washtubs,  sit- 
ting down  to  their  afternoon  sewing,  with  smiling  faces 
and  sanded  floors.  The  scrambling  among  the  young 
ladies  continued,  until  one  said,  "  You  might  as  well  let 
him  see  it,  as  he's  got  to." 

"  It's  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  Prudence,"  said 
another.     "  'Tan't  no  present  to  cut  love." 

Prudence's  cheeks  grew  a  deeper  crimson,  until  the 
suggestion  that  "  to-morrow  was  ironing  day,  and  she 
wouldn't  have  no  time  to  finish  it,"  induced  her  to  draw 
out  a  braided  watch-riband  of  various  colours.  It  was 
observed  that  Prudence's  hand  trembled  with  unaffected 
trepidation  as  she  pursued  her  work.  Joseph  rose  to 
examine  it,  and  by  degrees  the  family  (as  families  will 
instinctively  do)  disappeared,  and  Mr.  Bates  gained  res- 
olution to  offer  a  faithful  and  affectionate  heart  to  the 
blushing  girl. 

True  love  !  Whether  thou  broodest  with  white  plu- 
D 


I 


r 


38  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

mage  over  the  souls  of  the  gentle  and  refined,  or  spread^ 
est  thy  heavier  flight  near  coarser  hearts,  thou  art  sacred 
still !  Go  on  thy  blessed  errand,  scatter  thy  gifts  in  pal- 
ace and  cottage,  and  let  the  young  listen  in  joy,  as  they 
hear  the  rustling  of  thy  wings ! 

Prudence's  blushes  were  not  diminished  when  her  sis- 
ters observed,  on  their  return,  that  the  watch-guard  had 
advanced  but  one  knot,  and  that  was  done  wrong,  and 
their  jests  came  full  and  free  on  the  embarrassed  lover. 
Happy  had  it  been  for  him  had  he  wedded  his  Prudence, 
and  remained  a  "hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of  water!" 
Appreciating  affection  would  have  smoothed  his  path,  and 
labour  sweetened  his  repose. 

Such  was  the  man  whom  my  papa  was  obliged  to 
welcome  as  the  teacher  of  his  children,  for  he  had  not 
the  heart  to  turn  him  back  after  his  long  journey.  I  wish 
there  was  a  register  of  looks,  that  mamma's  might  have 
been  entered  when  she  first  saw  him,  and  took  in  his 
whole  figure,  from  his  greased  hair  to  his  worsted  hose. 
He  was  all  angles.  You  would  have  judged  him  to  be  a 
mathematician  by  his  elbows,  sooner,  perhaps,  than  by 
his  phrenology  ;  for  his  hair,  being  cut  in  an  exact  line 
ove.r  his  brows,  left  but  little  display  of  his  organical  de- 
velopments. A  perpetual  embarrassment  in  the  company 
of  his  superiors  made  him  stand  like  a  drake,  first  on  one 
foot,  then  on  the  other ;  and  while  with  one  hand  he  fid- 
dled at  Prudence's  watch-chain,  he  smoothed  down  the 
hair  closer  on  his  forehead  with  the  other. 

I  could  divine,  by  Chloe's  increased  demureness  at 
dinner,  what  her  notions  were  of  our  new  inmate ;  but 
her  expressed  opinion  was  reserved  for  her  mistress's 
ear  when  she  undressed  her  at  night.  Jim's  looks  were 
less  equivocal.  As  he  wielded  the  fly-brush,  he  peeped 
out  of  one  corner  of  his  eye  at  the  strangers  proceedings, 
scarcely  controlled  by  papa's  warning  expression ;  and 
when  Mr.  Bates,  picking  out  the  orange  leaf,  took  up  a 
finger-bowl  and  drank  down  the  water  at  a  draught,  he 
was  obliged  to  make  a  precipitate  retreat  to  save  his 
character  as  a  good  servant,  which  is  one  who  sees 
everything  without  seeming  to  see. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  39 

Alas !  how  many  young  men  have  plodded,  and  pushed, 
and  been  coaxed  and  hustled  through  a  kind  of  educa- 
tion in  the  eastern  states,  and  then  presented  themselves 
as  teachers  to  the  children  of  southern  gentlemen  ! 


CHAPTER  V. 


MR.   JOSEPH  BATES,  THE  TUTOR. 

"  Wandering  through  the  southern  countries, 
Teaching  the  ABC  from  Webster's  spelling-book." 

Halleck's  Connecticut. 

"  Strepsiades.  So,  you  like  overlooking  the  gods  from  a  basket  ? 
Come,  Socrates,  dearest,  get  down  from  your  rafter, 
And  tell  a  poor  fellow  the  thing  he's  come  after." 

Clouds  of  Aristophanes. 

From  the  unrestrained  freedom  described  in  the  last 
chapter,  we  were  called  on  the  following  morning  to 
4ake  our  first  lessons.     John  was  not  forthcoming. 

"  Where  may  your  brother  be  V  said  Mr.  Bates  to 
Richard. 

"  He  has  marsJi'd  his  harnd  on  the  dray"  answered 
little  Dick,  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  fish-hooks. 

"  Wha-r-t  V  said  Mr.  Bates,  with  a  tremendous  drawl.* 

Richard  repeated  his  first  reply. 

"  I  don't  conceive,"  said  our  teacher. 

"  Sir,"  said  Richard  and  I. 

"Write  it  down,  if  you  are  agreeable  to  it,"  said  Mr. 
Bates. 

Little  Richard  was  as  backward  in  chirography  and 
orthography  as  he  was  in  pronunciation,  and  Mr.  Bates 
was  more  puzzled  than  ever.  He  turned  to  me  for  an 
explanation.  It  may  surprise  some  readers  that  I  should 
be  so  much  further  advanced  in  correct  speaking  than 

*  The  common  southern  expression  is  eh  ?  or  what  say  ?  pro- 
aouHced  almost  like  one  word. 


L 


40  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

Richard  ;  but  southern  children,  who  have  good  models  in 
their  parents,  and  who  associate  with  the  intelligent,  will 
almost  involuntarily  correct  themselves  of  inaccuracies.  I 
was  much  more  with  my  parents  than  the  boys  were.  I 
have  never  felt  any  more  apprehension  at  having  my 
children  associate  with  negroes,  lest  their  dialect  should 
be  permanently  injured,  than  I  should  have  at  their  listen- 
ing to  the  broken  English  of  a  foreigner ;  and  though,  at 
the  time  of  which  I  speak,  I  preferred  to  talk  to  the  ne- 
groes in  their  dialect,  I  never  used  it  to  the  whites. 

"Be  so  obleeging  as  to  tell  me  what  your  brother  says, 
miss,"  said  Mr.  Bates. 

"  He  says,"  answered  I,  "  that  John  has  mashed  his 
hand  on  the  dray." 

"  Dray,  miss  1     What  is  a  dray  V 

"That  thing,  sir,  with  wheels,  out  by  the  potato-field." 

"  No,  no,  miss,"  said  Mr.  Bates,  "  that  is  a  truck.'1'' 

"  We  call  it  a  dray,  sir,"  said  I. 

"  You  mustn't  call  it  so  no  more  then.  The  Borston 
folks  call  that  a  truck,"  insisted  Mr.  Bates. 

"  You  should  say,  Master  Richard,  that  John  has 
jammed  his  hand  on  the  truck." 

Richard  and  I  stole  a  glance  at  each  other,  but  of 
course  we  could  not  dispute  Boston  phraseology. 

"  You  must  git  red  of  these  curious  ways  of  talking," 
continued  Mr.  Bates,  "  as  rapid  as  possible." 

Thinks  I,  what  does  git  red  mean  ?  I  have  since 
found  that  many  well-educated  persons  in  a  city,  which 
is  acknowledged  to  be  the  most  enlightened  in  the  United 
States,  use  this  expression ;  and  ladies,  very  intellectual 
ones  too,  s^y,  "  I  wish  I  could  git  red  of  my  lunnet." 

Let  me  at  this  point  protest  against  the  word  get,  as 
not  only /of  selfish  origin,  but  a  miserable  expletive. 
There  is/  no  sentence  that  is  not  better  without  it,  and 
when  it/gets  to  git,  it  is  intolerable. 

I  was  called  up  to  read  a  part  of  "  Collins's  Ode  on  the 
Passions,"  and  commenced  with, 

I'  First  fare  his  hand  its  skill  to  try — " 
;  "  Fare  .'"  said  Mr.  Bates,  "  how  do  you  spell  it  1" 
V  "  F-e-a-r  fare,"  said  I. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  41 

*'  How  do  you  pronounce  these  words  V  said  he,  point- 
ing to  appear,  ear,  tear,  &c,  in  the  spelling-book. 

I  answered,  appare,  are,  tare,  &c. 

With  equal  impropriety  I  pronounced  the  words  day, 
play,  &c.  almost  like  dee,  plee,  and  my  southern  brethren 
must  excuse  me  when  I  tell  them,  ay,  very  intellectual 
ones  too,  statesmen  and  belles,  that  many  of  them  pro- 
nounce in  this  style  unconsciously,  and  not  only  so,  but 
often  call  fair /ere,  and  hair  here. 

For  instance, 


Or, 


1  The  tare  down  childhood's  cheek  that  flows, 
Is  like  the  dewdrop  on  the  rose." 


"  Wreath'd  in  its'  dark  brown  curls,  her  here 
Half  hid  Matilda's  forehead  fere." 


At  the  close  of  our  lesson  Mr.  Bates  told  me  that 
papa  wished  me  to  take  a  ride  (anglic£  drive)  with  him. 
Jim,  who  rarely  left  us,  was  standing  with  an  inquisitive 
look  at  the  door. 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  teacher  to  him,  "  you  may  go 
to  the  barn  and  tackle  the  horse  and  shay.''' 

"  I  no  been  hear  wha'  Maus  Bate  say,"  said  Jim. 

Mr.  Bates  repeated  his  direction.  Jim  was  confounded, 
and  we  were  all  in  the  same  predicament.  At  this  mo- 
ment, papa,  who  felt  some  curiosity  to  know  our  prog- 
ress, entered,  and  Mr.  Bates  stated  his  difficulty. 

"  Oh,  I  understand  you,"  said  papa,  laughing.  "  Jim, 
go  to  the  stable  and  harness  the  horse  and  chair." 

I  might  proceed  in  this  expose  of  both  parties ;  but  if 
this  little  sketch  leads  us  to  more  attention  to  our  own 
defects,  and  more  charity  for  sectional  differences,  it  is 
enough.  —a 

It  was  difficult  for  papa  to  git  red  of  our  teacher, 
though  we  felt  hourly  his  deficiencies  and  faults.  His 
own  knowledge  of  his  unfitness  for  the  task  prevented 
his  enforcing  his  requisitions  with  any  firmness  ;  the  only 
alternative  was  for  him  to  descend  to  be  our  playmate,  to 
coax  us,  and  even  enlist  Jim  as  a  companion.  Sev- 
eral odd  incidents  occurred,  but  the  two  I  am  about  to 
D  2 


42  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

record  tended  at  last  to  sever  the  unnatural  alliance  be- 
tween a  good-tempered  but  ignorant  teacher,  and  gay 
but  intelligent  children. 

If  those  who  were  engaged  in  the  occurrence  \  am 
about  to  relate  ever  glance  at  these  pages  in  these  their 
soberer  days,  they  may  excite  a  smile. 

Papa  and  mamma  having  gone  on  a  visit  to  the  city, 
we  were  left  entirely  under  Mr.  Bates's  control.  Unfor- 
tunately, several  lads  from  the  neighbourhood  came  to 
stay  a  few  days  with  us,  and  John  and  Richard  were  re- 
solved not  to  pursue  their  studies,  claiming  the  visit  of 
the  boys  as  a  holyday.  I  confess  that  they  were  exceed- 
ingly provoking  ;  and  Mr.  Bates,  finding  them  incorrigible, 
locked  them  in  their  bedrooms,  on  bread  and  water,  for 
twenty-four  hours.  They  had  fairly  roused  the  lion  ;  he 
was  seriously  angry. 

'  For  the  first  part  of  the  day  we  heard  the  boys  drum- 
ming, and  marching,  and  whistling,  and  saw  them  at  the 
windows  making  odd  gesticulations.  As  the  dinner-hour 
advanced,  they  became  more  silent.  I  felt  pretty  sure 
that  Jim  would  stand  their  friend  ;  indeed,  he  said  to  me, 

"  Neber  mind,  Miss  Neely,  Jim  can  play  cootah*  to  da 
buckrah." 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  we  had  retired 
for  the  night,  Mr.  Bates  fancied  he  heard  unusual  noises  ; 
and  looking  out,  he  saw  a  large  basket  hoisted  by  a  rope 
to  my  brothers'  window  and  descend  again ;  he  then  ob- 
served one  of  the  young  visiters  enter  the  basket,  which 
was  raised  as  before.  On  its  descent,  Jim  alighted  from 
it,  saying  in  a  whisper, 

"  So  now,  don't  draw  'em  up  till  I  come  back  again," 
and  then  ran  off  to  the  servants'  apartments. 

Mr.  Bates  left  his  room  silently,  went  through  the  pi- 
azza on  tiptoe,  and  tried  the  strength  of  the  rope.  It 
seemed  made  of  stout  double  line  ;  and  as  the  height  was 
not  very  great,  and  the  piazza,  pillars,  shutters,  &c,  were 
at  hand  to  steady  himself  by,  his  passions,  too,  being  ex- 
cited, he  determined  to  pay  the  boys  a  visit.     My  broth- 

*  Alluding  to  the  deception  of  the  turtle,  which  draws  in  its  head 
previously  to  snapping  at  anything. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  43 

ers,  feeling  a  weight  in  the  basket  as  he  entered,  called 
in  a  whisper,  say,  "  Ready,  Jim  V  "  Ready,"  said  Mr. 
Bates,  squeezing  himself  into  the  basket,  and  feeling  for 
the  first  time  a  little  tremour. 

"  By  George,"  said  John,  "  if  this  is  not  a  cargo  ;  help 
us,  Dick ;  all  of  you  lend  us  a  hand,  Jim  is  heavier 
than  I  thought  for.  Quick,  Ingols,  fasten  the  rope  to  the 
bedstead  ;  so  there,  now  pull." 

"  Softly,"  said  Richard,  "  or  the  Mack  crane  will  hear 
us,"  a  cognomen  with  which  they  generally  honoured 
Mr.  Bates. 

By  the  time  Mr.  Bates  had  risen  half  way  on  his  aerial 
excursion,  he  repented  his  temerity  ;  a  sort  of  sea-sick- 
ness came  over  him,  and  he  was  fain  to  cry  out, 

"  John,  I  say,  John,  Richard,  be  easy  now,  Tm  in't." 

The  boys  were  for  a  moment  ready  to  let  the  basket 
drop  in  their  amazement.     It  vibrated  fearfully. 

"  Haul  me  up,  haul  me  up,"  roared  Mr.  Bates,  in  an 
ecstasy  of  terror. 

John  called  to  the  boys  to  hold  on,  and  fastening  the 
rope  with  another  tie  to  the  bedstead,  went  to  the  window. 

"Who  are  you  V  said  he,  in  an  angry  tone. 

"  My — dear — John,"  said  Mr.  Bates,  catching  his 
breath,  "  Tm  in't,  Mr.  Bates  ;  my  dear  John,  for  mercy's 
sake,  hoist  me  up." 

The  boys  saw  their  power,  and  held  a  consultation. 
At  length  John,  returning  to  the  window  ready  to  burst 
with  laughter,  said,  "  Who  is  this  thief  coming  to  rob  us 
of  our  bread  and  water  ?-" 

"  My  dear  young  gentlemen,"  said  the  terrified  man, 
"  I  want  nothing  but  to  get  out  of  this  tarnation  basket. 
I  calculate  that  my  heft  will  be  too  much  for  it.  Every 
time  it  knocks  agin  the  house  it  jounces  my  life  out.  I 
shall  be  particularly  obligated  to  you  either  to  let  me  up 
or  down.     I  an't  particular  which." 

The  boys  whispered. 

"  Up  or  down,"  shrieked  Mr.  Bates.  "  You  don't  ought 
to  keep  me  here." 

"  Mr.  Bates,"  said  John,  solemnly,  "  if  we  will  let  you 
in,  will  you  let  us  out  V 


44  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A 

"  I  wish  I  could  reach  you  the  key  aforehand,"  said 
the  poor  man ;  "  but  it  is  in  my  pantaloons  pocket,  and 
sartin  as  I  go  to  move  for'ard,  the  basket  will  fall  whop." 

"  You  are  in  a  bad  fix,"  said  Richard,  gravely. 

"  Oh,  I'm  in  an  awful  situation,"  cried  he  ;  "I  wish  I 
was  in  Connecticut !  I  feel  so  squeamy-like  at  my  stom- 
ach ;  I  don't  know  what  to  do  !  Pray  be  spry  and  take 
me  in." 

The  boys  retreated  to  the  bed,  and  stuffed  their  hand- 
kerchiefs into  their  mouths  to  conceal  their  laughter. 
The  shaking  of  the  bedstead  moved  the  basket,  and  they 
heard  another  ejaculation. 

Richard  was  the  first  to  pity  him.  "  Come,  boys,. let 
him  out."  It  was  a  prodigious  tug  to  get  him  up.  Jim, 
with  his  eyes  as  big  as  saucers,  stood  below,  wondering 
to  see  "  Maus  Bate"  go  up  instead  of  himself  and  a  plate 
of  ham  he  had  been  frying. 

Few  men  ever  felt  less  of  the  dignity  of  human  nature 
than  Mr.  Bates  when  he  alighted  from  the  basket.  The 
boys  had  partaken  of  an  excellent  supper,  which  John 
had  procured,  together  with  their  hunting  tinder-box  and 
a  candle.  He  walked  to  the  door  with  a  very  solemn 
step,  unlocked  it,  and  returned  to  his  own  apartment. 

This  incident  really  seemed  to  sober  us.  It  was  an 
outlet  for  cherished  mischief,  and  we  studied  for  some 
time  with  considerable  diligence.  Mr.  Bates  never  re- 
ferred to  it  again.  We  told  our  parents,  but  their  just  re- 
proofs did  but  little  good  when  we  saw  that  they  laughed 
until  the  tears  ran  down  their  cheeks,  and  papa,  holding 
his  sides,  begged  we  would  stop  if  we  had  any  pity  on 
him. 

Thus  we  worried  along  through  the  winter.  Mr.  Bates 
was  a  thorough  teacher  as  far  as  his  knowledge  went ; 
but  our  contempt  for  him  was  so  great  as  to  prevent  his 
having  any  moral  power  over  us.  He  was  uncomforta- 
ble enough,  and  the  thought  of  his  simple  and  warm- 
hearted Prudence,  his  affectionate  family  and  cheerful 
home,  often  stole  over  his  mind  and  shaded  his  brow 
with  gloom. 

We  had  been  upon  good  behaviour  for  some  time, 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  45 

when  the  first  of  April,  that  day  of  "  quips  and  cranks," 
and  more  than  "  wreathed  smiles,"  drew  near.  Mr. 
Bates  himself  seemed  animated  by  the  reminiscences  of 
April-fool-day,  and  detailed  to  Jim  and  us  the  exploits 
of  his  youth. 

The  jokes  passed  round.  Occasionally  he  was  to  be 
seen  unconsciously  trailing  a  dirty  rag  at  his  back,  or  a 
ridiculous  motto  ;  nor  was  he  at  all  backward  in  retalia- 
tion. 

He  was  very  fond  of  bottled  cider,  but  very  nervous 
at  drawing  a  cork.  John  and  I  filled  a  bottle  with  weak 
molasses  and  water,  and  placed  it,  with  the  corkscrew, 
in  the  accustomed  place.  At  the  usual  hour  Mr.  Bates 
approached  the  slab.  He  held  the  bottle  far  off,  and 
drew  cautiously,  while  John  stood  ready  with  a  tumbler, 
Mr.  Bates  being  in  his  usual  tremour.  The  cork  came 
out  with  difficulty,  and  his  countenance  looked  as  vapid 
as  the  diluted  mixture.  But  he  had  his  revenge.  He 
made  in  secret  something  to  imitate  a  short  remnant  of 
candle  out  of  a  raw  sweet  potato.  In  New-England,  he 
told  us  afterward,  they  use  the  parsnip  for  this  trick. 
The  imitation  was  perfect,  particularly  the  wick,  which 
was  simply  the  potato  cut  small  at  that  point,  slit  in  fine 
shreds,  and  touched  with  coal.  This  secret  he  commu- 
nicated only  to  me.  About  twilight,  when  we  were  to- 
gether, he  rang  the  bell  for  Jim,  and,  giving  the  candle  to 
him,  told  him  to  light  it  quickly.  Jim  went  to  the  ser- 
vants' hall,  where  there  was  a  fire,  and  Mr.  Bates,  pre- 
tending to  hurry  him,  followed,  calling  us  after  him.  Jim 
took  up  a  coal  with  the  tongs  and  began  to  blow,  his 
great  mouth  enlarging  and  closing  like  a  dying  shark's. 
Mr.  Bates's  impatience  increased.  "  Blow  harder,  Jim." 
Jim  puffed  like  a  porpoise,  but  in  vain. 

"  He  obstinate  like  a  nigger,"  said  Jim,  in  a  passion. 

John  snatched  it  from  him,  and  went  through  the  same 
process,  until  our  restrained  laughter  broke  forth.  Mr. 
Bates  rubbed  his  hands,  and  looked  like  an  elephant  in  a 
frolic. 

I  have  a  very  great  objection  to  offer  to  this  April 


46  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A 

trick,  which  is  this.  I  have  heard  two  gentlemen,  who 
never  used  an  oath  on  any  other  occasion,  swear  at  it. 

It  was  but  too  obvious  that  our  connexion  with  Mr. 
Bates  must  be  terminated. 

Papa  opened  the  matter  to  him,  and  gave  him  a  gener- 
ous remuneration.  Mr.  Bates  received  his  dismissal  qui- 
etly, and  papa's  gift  gratefully,  saying,  "  He  reckoned  he 
should  make  a  better  fist  at  farming  than  edicating." 

We  parted  in  friendship  ;  and  John,  the  last  person  in 
the  world  1  should  have  suspected  of  such  sensibility, 
shed  tears. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


PARENTAL    TEACHING. 


"  Mrs.  Page. — Sir  Hugh,  my  husband  says  my  son  profits  nothing 
in  the  world  at  his  book ;  I  pray  you  ask  him  some  questions  in  his 
accidence. 

"  Evans. — Come  hither,  William  ;  hold  up  your  head,  come." 

After  the  departure  of  our  Connecticut  teacher,  Mr. 
Bates,  papa  resolved  to  carry  on  our  education  himself. 
We  were  to  rise  by  daylight,  that  he  might  pursue  his 
accustomed  ride  over  the  fields  after  breakfast.  New 
writing-books  were  taken  out  and  ruled,  fresh  quills  laid 
by  their  side,  our  task  carefully  committed  to  memory, 
and  we  sat  with  a  mixture  of  docility  and  curiosity  to 
know  how  he  would  manage  as  a  teacher.  The  first 
three  days,  our  lessons  being  on  trodden  ground,  and  our- 
selves under  the  impulse  of  novelty,  we  were  very  amia- 
ble, he  very  paternal ;  on  the  fourth,  John  was  turned 
out  of  the  room,  Richard  was  pronounced  a  mule,  and  I 
went  sobbing  to  mamma,  as  if  my  heart  would  break, 
while  papa  said  he  might  be  compelled  to  ditch  rice- 
fields,  but  he  never  would  undertake  to  teach  children 
again. 


SOUTHERN   MATRON-  47 

A  slight  constraint  was  thrown  over  the  family  for  a 
day  or  two,  but  it  soon  wore  off,  and  he  returned  to  his 
good-nature.  For  three  weeks  we  were  as  wild  as 
fawns,  until  mamma's  attention  was  attracted  by  my  sun- 
burnt complexion  and  my  brother's  torn  clothes. 

"  This  will  never  answer,"  said  she  to  papa.  "  Look 
at  Cornelia's  face  !  It  is  as  brown  as  a  chinquapin. 
Richard  has  ruined  his  new  suit,  and  John  has  cut  his 
leg  with  the  carpenter's  tools.  I  have  half  a  mind  to 
keep  school  for  them  myself." 

Papa  gave  a  slight  whistle,  which  seemed  rather  to 
stimulate  than  check  her  resolution.  "  Cornelia,"  said 
she,  "  go  directly  to  your  brothers,  and  prepare  your 
books  for  to-morrow,     i"  will  teach  you." 

The  picture  about  to  be  presented  is  not  overwrought. 
I  am  confident  of  the  sympathy  of  many  a  mother, 
whose  finger  has  been  kept  on  a  word  in  the  lesson, 
amid  countless  interruptions,  so  long,  that  her  pupils,  for- 
getting her  vocation,  have  lounged  through  the  first  inter- 
ruptions and  finished  with  a  frolic. 

One  would  suppose  that  the  retirement  of  a  plantation 
was  the  most  appropriate  spot  for  a  mother  and  her  chil- 
dren to  give  and  receive  instruction.  Not  so  ;  for  instead 
of  a  limited  household,  her  dependants  are  increased  to 
a  number  which  would  constitute  a  village.  She  is 
obliged  to  listen  to  cases  of  grievance,  is  a  nurse  to  the 
sick,  and  distributes  the  half-yearly  clothing  ;  indeed,  the 
mere  giving  out  of  thread  and  needles  is  something  of  a 
charge  on  so  large  a  scale.  A  planter's  lady  may  seem 
indolent,  because  there  are  so  many  under  her  who  per- 
form trivial  services  ;  but  the  very  circumstance  of  keep- 
ing so  many  menials  in  order  is  an  arduous  one,  and  the 
keys  of  her  establishment  are  a  care  of  which  a  Northern 
housekeeper  knows  nothing,  and  include  a  very  extensive 
class  of  duties.  Many  fair,  and  even  aristocratic  girls, 
if  we  may  use  this  phrase  in  our  republican  country, 
who  grace  a  ball-room,  or  loll  in  a  liveried  carriage,  may 
be  seen  with  these  steel  talismans,  presiding  over  store- 
houses, and  measuring,  with  the  accuracy  and  conscien- 
tiousness of  a  shopman,  the  daily  allowance  of  the  family, 


48  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

or  cutting  homespun  suits,  for  days  together,  for  the 
young  and  the  old  negroes  under  their  charge  ;  while 
matrons,  who  would  ring  a  bell  for  their  pocket-handker- 
chief to  be  brought  to  them,  will  act  the  part  of  a  surgeon 
or  physician  with  a  promptitude  and  skill  which  would 
excite  astonishment  in  a  stranger.  Very  frequently,  ser- 
vants, like  children,  will  only  take  medicine  from  their 
superiors,  and  in  this  case  the  planter's  wife  or  daughter 
is  admirably  fitted  to  aid  them. 

There  are  few  establishments  where  all  care  and  re- 
sponsibility devolves  on  the  master,  and  even  then  the 
superintendence  of  a  large  domestic  circle,  and  the  rites 
of  hospitality,  demand  so  large  a  portion  of  the  mistress's 
time,  as  leaves  her  but  little  opportunity  for  systematic 
teaching  in  her  family.  In  this  case  she  is  wise  to  seek 
an  efficient  tutor,  still  appropriating  those  opportunities 
which  perpetually  arise  under  the  same  roof  to  improve 
their  moral  and  religious  culture,  and  cultivate  those 
sympathies  which  exalt  these  precious  beings  from  chil- 
dren to  friends. 

The  young,  conscientious,  ardent  mother  must  be 
taught  this  by  experience.  She  has  a  jealousy  at  first  of 
any  instruction  that  shall  come  between  their  dawning 
minds  and  her  own  ;  and  is  only  taught  by  the  constantly 
thwarted  recitation,  that  in  this  country,  at  least,  good 
housekeeping  and  good  teaching  cannot  be  combined. 

But  to  return  to  my  narrative.  The  morning  after 
mamma's  order,  we  assembled  at  ten  o'clock.  There 
was  a  little  trepidation  in  her  manner,  but  we  loved  her 
too  well  to  annoy  her  by  noticing  it.  Her  education 
had  been  confined  to  mere  rudiments,  and  her  good 
sense  led  her  only  to  conduct  our  reading,  writing,  and 
spelling. 

We  stood  in  a  line. 

"  Spell  irrigate,"  said  she.  Just  then  the  coachman 
entered,  and  bowing,  said, 

"  Maussa  send  me  for  de  key  for  get  four  quart  o'  corn 
for  him  bay  horse." 

The  key  was  given. 

"  Spell  imitate,''''  said  mamma. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  49 

,s  We  did  not  spell  irrigate"  we  all  exclaimed. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  she,  "  irrigate.'''' 

By  the  time  the  two  words  were  well  through,  Chloe, 
the  most  refined  of  our  coloured  circle,  appeared. 

"  Will  mistress  please  to  medjure  out  some  calomel  for 
Syphax,  who  is  feverish  and  onrestless  V* 

During  mamma's  visit  to  the  doctor's  shop,  as  the 
medicine-closet  was  called,  we  turned  the  inkstand  over 
on  her  mahogany  table,  and  wiped  it  up  with  our  pocket- 
handkerchiefs.  It  required  some  time  to  cleanse  and  ar- 
range ourselves  ;  and  just  as  we  were  seated  and  had  ad* 
vanced  a  little  way  on  our  orthographical  journey,  Maum 
Phillis  entered  with  her  usual  drawl, 

"  Little  maussa  want  for  nurse,  marm." 

While  this  operation  was  going  on,  we  gathered  round 
mamma  to  play  bo-peep  with  the  baby,  until  even  she 
forgot  our  lessons.  At  length  the  little  pet  was  dis- 
missed with  the  white  drops  still  resting  on  his  red  lips, 
and  our  line  was  formed  again. 

Mamma's  next  interruption,  after  successfully  issuing 
a  few  words,  was  to  settle  a  quarrel  between  Lafayette 
and  Venus,  two  little  blackies,  who  were  going  through 
their  daily  drill,  in  learning  to  rub  the  furniture,  which, 
with  brushing  flies  at  meals,  constitutes  the  first  instruct 
tion  for  house  servants.  These  important  and  classical 
personages  rubbed  about  a  stroke  to  the  minute  on  each 
side  of  the  cellaret,  rolling  up  their  eyes  and  making  gri^ 
maces  at  each  other.  At  this  crisis  they  had  laid  claim 
to  the  same  rubbing-cloth ;  mamma  stopped  the  dispute 
by  ordering  my  seamstress  Flora,  who  was  sewing  for 
me,  to  apply  the  weight  of  her  thimble,  that  long-known 
weapon  of  offence,  as  well  as  implement  of  industry,  to 
their  organ  of  firmness. 

"  Spell  accentuate,"  said  mamma,  whose  finger  had 
slipped  from  the  column. 

"  No,  no,  that  is  not  the  place,"  we  exclaimed,  rectify- 
ing the  mistake. 

"  Spell  irritate"  said  she,  with  admirable  coolness,  and 


Uneasy. 
E 


50  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

John  fairly  succeeded,  just  as  the  overseer's  son,  a  sal» 
low  little  boy,  with  yellow  hair  and  blue  homespun  dress, 
came  in  with  his  hat  on,  and  kicking  up  one  foot  for  man- 
ners, said, 

"  Fayther  says  as  how  he  wants  Master  Richard's 
horse  to  help  tote  some  tetters*  to  tother  field." 

This  pretty  piece  of  alliteration  was  complied  with, 
after  some  remonstrance  from  brother  Dick,  and  we  fin- 
ished our  column.  At  this  crisis,  before  we  were  fairly 
seated  at  writing,  mamma  was  summoned  to  the  hall  to 
one  of  the  field  hands,  who  had  received  an  injury  in  the 
ankle  from  a  hoe.  Papa  and  the  overseer  being  at  a 
distance,  she  was  obliged  to  superintend  the  wound. 
We  all  followed  her,  Lafayette  and  Venus  bringing  up 
the  rear.  She  inspected  the  sufferer's  great  foot,  cov- 
ered with  blood  and  perspiration,  superintended  a  bath, 
prepared  a  healing  application,  and  bound  it  on  with  her 
own  delicate  hands,  first  quietly  tying  a  black  apron  over 
her  white  dress.  Here  was  no  shrinking,  no  hiding  of 
the  eyes ;  and  while  extracting  some  extraneous  sub- 
stance from  the  wound,  her  manner  was  as  resolute  as  it 
was  gentle  and  consoling.  This  episode  gave  Richard 
an  opportunity  to  unload  his  pockets  of  groundnuts,  and 
treat  us  therewith.  We  were  again  seated  at  our  writing 
books,  and  were  going  on  swimmingly  with  "  Avoid  evil 
company"  when  a  little  crow-minder,  hoarse  from  his 
late  occupation,  came  in  with  a  basket  of  eggs,  and  said, 

"  Mammy  Phillis  send  missis  some  egg  for  buy, 
ma'am ;  she  an't  so  berry  well,  and  ax  for  some  'bac- 
cer." 

It  took  a  little  time  to  pay  for  the  eggs  and  send  to 
the  store-room  for  the  Virginia  weed,  of  which  opportunity 
we  availed  ourselves  to  draw  figures  on  our  slates  : 
mamma  reproved  us,  and  we  were  resuming  our  duties, 
when  the  cook's  son  approached,  and  said, 

"  Missis,  Daddy  Ajax  say  he  been  broke  de  axe,  and 
ax  me  for  ax  you  for  len  him  de  new  axe." 

This  made  us  shout  out  with  laughter,  and  the  busi- 

*  Potatoes. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  51 

ness  was  scarcely  settled,  when  the  dinner-horn  sounded. 
That  evening  a  carriage  full  of  friends  arrived  from  the 
city  to  pass  a  week  with  us,  and  thus  ended  mamma's 
experiment  in  teaching.' 

Our  summers  were  usually  passed  at  Springland,  a 
pine  settlement,  where  about  twenty  families  resorted  at 
that  season  of  the  year.  We  were  so  fortunate  as  to 
find  a  French  lady  already  engaged  in  teaching,  from 
whom  I  took  lessons  on  the  pianoforte  and  guitar.  The 
summer  swiftly  passed  away.  Papa  was  delighted  with 
my  facility  in  French,  in  which  my  brothers  were  also 
engaged,  and  we  were  happy  to  retain  Madame  d'Anville 
in  our  own  family  on  our  return  to  Roseland. 

In  the  middle  of  November  a  stranger  was  announced 
to  papa,  and  a  young  man  of  very  prepossessing  appear- 
ance entered  with  a  letter.  It  proved  to  be  from  our 
teacher,  Mr.  Bates.     The  contents  were  as  follows  : — 

"  Respected  Sir. — I  now  sit  down  to  write  to  you,  to 
inform  you  that  I  am  well,  as  also  are,  sir  and  mar'm, 
my  sister  Nancy,  and  all  the  rest  of  our  folks  except 
aunt  Patty,  who  is  but  poorly,  having  attacks  of  the 
rheumatiz,  and  shortness  of  breath.  I  should  add,  that 
Mrs.  Prudence  Bates  (who,  after  the  regular  publishment 
on  the  church  doors  for  three  Sundays,  was  united  to  me 
in  the  holy  bands  of  wedlock,  by  our  minister  Mr.  Eze- 
kiel  Duncan)  is  in  a  good  state  of  health  at  this  present, 
though  her  uncle,  by  her  father's  side,  has  been  sick  of 
jaundice,  a  complaint  that  has  been  off  and  on  with  him 
for  a  considerable  spell. 

"  The  bearer  of  this  epistle  is  Parson  Duncan's  son, 
by  name  Mr.  Charles  Duncan,  a  very  likely  young  man, 
but  poorly  in  health,  and  Dr.  Hincks  says  going  down 
to  Charleston  may  set  him  up.  I  have  the  candour  to 
say  that  I  think  him,  on  some  accounts,  a  more  proper 
teacher  than  your  humble  servant,  having  served  his  time 
at  a  regular  college  edication. 

"  I  have  taken  to  farming,  and  lot  upon  seeing  the 
Carolina  seeds  come  up  that  you  gave  me.  Our  folks 
say  that  I  speak  quite  outlandish  since  I  come  home ; 


52  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

and  when  I  told  neighbour  Holt  tother  day  about  growing 
corn,  and  spoke  about  somebody  that  was  raised  in  a  cer- 
tain place,  he  as  good  as  laughed  in  my  face,  and  said  it 
sounded  curious. 

"  I  have  tried  a  heap  to  make  our  folks  bile  the  hommony 
Miss  Wilton  give  me  as  they  do  at  Roseland  ;  but  it  is  the 
very  picture  of  swill,  and  I  must  say  the  hogs  eat  it  a 
nation  faster  than  we  do.  When  I  told  aunt  Patty  that 
Southern  folks  ate  clabber,  she  rolled  up  her  eyes,  and 
wondered  I  could  abide  to  sit  at  table  with  such  critters  ; 
and  though  I  told  her  that  it  was  genteel,  and  that  I 
stomached  it  very  well,  she  can't  no  how  git  over  it,  and 
makes  me  feel  very  curious  by  telling  everybody  that 
happens  in  how  they  eat  hogs'  victuals  down  at  Charles- 
ton. 

"  Sister  Nancy  was  very  much  obligated  by  the  fans 
and  basket  Miss  Neely  sent  her,  and  was  in  a  great 
maze  at  niggers  doing  anything  so  tasty ;  and  they  were 
all  astonished  when  I  told  them  how  the  white  folks  buy 
what  the  niggers  make,  and  what  a  laying  up  they  can 
git  if  they  have  a  mind  to,  jist  from  knick-knacks,  and 
eggs,  and  potatoes,  and  so  on. 

"  Mrs.  Prudence  admires  the  Thomson's  Seasons  Mr. 
John  sent  her.  She  has  kivered  it  with  a  bit  of  blue 
homespun,  and  put  it  up  safe. 

"  I  didn't  say  nothing  to  none  on  you  about  a  keg  of 
shrimps  that  I  brought  on  here  from  Charleston.  When 
I  got  here,  Mr.  Wdton,  they  were  a  sight  for  mortal 
eyes  !  Nobody  could  tell  which  was  head  or  which  was 
tail.  A  perfect  regiment  of  critters  had  took  hold  on 
'em  ;  and  when  I  told  our  folks  how  much  nicer  and  del- 
icater  they  were  than  lobsters,  they  began  to  twit  me, 
and  I  an't  hearn  the  last  of  it  yit.  I  only  wish  I  could 
have  preserved  the  live-stock  for  a  museum. 

"I  send  by  Mr.  Duncan  some  long-necked  squashes 
and  russet  apples  of  my  own  raising.  The  folks  here 
stare  like  mad  when  I  tell  them  you  eat  punkins  biled 
like  squash. 

"  I  have  writ  a  much  longer  letter  than  I  thought  on ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  53 

but  somehow  it  makes  me  chirpy  to  think  of  Roseland, 
though  the  young  folks  were  obstreperous. 

"  Give  my  love  nevertheless  to  them,  and  Miss  Wilton, 
and  all  the  little  ones,  as  also  I  would  not  forget  Daddy 
Jacque,  whom  I  consider,  notwithstanding  his  colour,  as 
a  very  respectable  person.  I  cannot  say  as  much  for 
Jim,  who  was  an  eternal  thorn  in  my  side,  by  reason  of 
his  quickness  at  mischief,  and  his  slowness  of  waiting 
upon  me  ;  and  I  take  this  opportunity  of  testifying,  that  I 
believe,  if  he  had  been  in  New-England,  he  would  have 
had  his  deserts  before  this  ;  but  you  Southern  folks  do 
put  up  with  an  unaccountable  sight  from  niggers,  and  I 
hope  Jim  will  not  be  allowed  his  full  tether,  if  so  be  Mr. 
Charles  should  take  my  situation  in  your  family.  J 
often  tell  our  folks  how  I  used  to  catch  up  a  thing  and 
do  it  rather  than  wait  for  half  a  dozen  on  'em  to  take 
their  own  time.  If  I  lived  to  the  age  of  Methusalem,  I 
never  could  git  that  composed,  quiet  kind  of  way  you 
Southern  folks  have  of  waiting  on  the  niggers.  I  only 
wish  they  could  see  aunt  Patty  move  when  the  rheuma- 
tiz  is  off— if  she  isn't  spry,  I  dont  know. 
"  Excuse  all  errors. 

'•  Yours  to  serve, 

"  Joseph  Bates." 

I  detected  a  gentle,  half-comical  smile  on  Mr.  Dun- 
can's mouth  as  he  raised  his  splendid  eyes  to  papa 
while  delivering  Mr.  Bates's  letter ;  but  he  soon  walked  to 
the  window,  and  asked  me  some  questions  about  the_ 
_Cherpkee  rose-hedge,  and  other  objects  in  view,  which 
were  novelties  to  him.  I  felt  instantly  that  he  was  a 
gentleman,  by  the  atmosphere  of  refinement  which  was 
thrown  over  him,  and  I  saw  that  papa  sympathized  with 
me,  as  with  graceful  courtesy  he  welcomed  him  to  Rose- 
land. 

E  2 


54  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CHARLES    DUNCAN. 

"  A  spirit  urging  onward  and  still  on 
To  some  high,  noble  object  to  be  won  ; 
And  pressing  still,  through  danger  and  distress, 

Regardless  of  them  all, 
Till  that  high  object,  whatsoe'er  it  be, 
Friendship,  or  virtuous  fame,  our  country's  liberty, 
The  improvement  of  our  race,  the  happiness 

Of  one  poor  individual, 
Or  of  unnumber'd  thousands  be  attain'd." 

S.  G.  Bullfinch. 

"  And  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries, 
To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 
He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay, 
Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way." 

Goldsmith. 

There  is  no  moral  object  so  beautiful  to  me  as  a  con- 
scientious young  man !  I  watch  him  as  I  do  a  star  in 
the  heavens :  clouds  may  be  before  him,  but  we  know 
that  his  light  is  behind  them,  and  will  beam  again ;  the 
blaze  of  others'  prosperity  may  outshine/ him,  but  we 
know  that,  though  unseen,  he  illumines  his  true  sphere. 
He  resists  temptation  not  without  a  struggle,  for  that  is 
not  virtue,  but  he  does  resist  and  conquer ;  he  hears  the 
sarcasm  of  the  profligate,  and  it  stings  him,  for  that  is  the 
trial  of  virtue,  but  he  heals  the  wound  with  his  own 
pure  touch ;  he  heeds  not  the  watchword  of  fashion  if  it 
leads  to  sin ;  the  atheist  who  says,  not  only  in  his  heart 
but  with  his  lips, "  There  is  no  God,"  controls  him  not,  for 
he  sees  the  hand  of  a  creating  God,  and  reverences  it ;  of 
a  preserving  God,  and  rejoices  in  it.  Woman  is  shel- 
tered by  fond  arms  and  guided  by  loving  counsel ;  old  age 
is  protected  by  its  experience,  and  manhood  by  its 
strength ;  but  the  young  man  stands  amid  the  temptations 
of  the  world  like  a  self-balanced  tower.  Happy  he  who 
seeks  and  gains  the  prop  and  shelter  of  Christianity. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  55 

Onward,  then,  conscientious  youth  !  raise  thy  standard 
and  nerve  thyself  for  goodness.  If  God  has  given  thee 
intellectual  power,  awaken  it  in  that  cause  ;  never  let  it 
be  said  of  thee,  he  helped  to  swell  the  tide  of  sin,  by 
pouring  his  influence  into  its  channels.  If  thou  art  fee- 
ble in  mental  strength,  throw  not  that  poor  drop  into  a 
polluted  current.  Awake,  arise,  young  man  !  Assume 
the  beautiful  garments  of  virtue !  It  is  easy,  fearfully 
easy  to  sin ;  it  is  difficult  to  be  pure  and  holy.  Put  on 
thy  strength,  then ;  let  thy  chivalry  be  aroused  against 
error — let  truth  be  the  lady  of  thy  love — defend  her. 

A  review  of  the  character  of  Charles  Duncan  has  led 
me  to  this  expression  of  feeling.  I  was  thirteen  years 
of  age  when  he  arrived  at  Roseland,  and  became  our 
teacber  in  conjunction  with  Madame  d'Anville.  I  ought 
to  describe  his  appearance.  I  wish  I  could.  I  can  say 
that  his  form  was  the  perfection  of  manly  symmetry ; 
I  can  tell  of  his  clear,  dark,  intellectual  eyes,  where  soft- 
ness and  vivacity  seemed  living  in  friendly  rivalry  ;  I  can 
paint  the  rich  clustering  hair  thrown  away  from  his  noble 
forehead,  and  that  forehead  rising  in  its  white  mass  like 
a  tower  of  mind  ;  I  can  give  some  conception  of  the  rich 
glow  that  coloured  up  a  complexion  of  such  transparent 
hue,  that  it  would  have  seemed  effeminate  but  for  the 
strong  character  of  his  frame  and  features,  that  glow,  too 
fallacious,  too  burningly  bright,  which  spoke  of  a  fire 
consuming  the  vase  in  which  it  was  kindled ;  but  his 
voice  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  describe.  He  never 
spoke  without  silencing  others,  not  by  noise  or  vehemence, 
but  with  a  slow,  musical  emphasis,  that  went  straight  to 
the  heart ;  nor  was  the  voice  low  or  whispered  ;  but,  with- 
out a  tinge  of  vanity,  it  seemed  to  say,  I  must  be  heard. 

Why  are  not  such  individuals  on  thrones  wielding 
sceptres,  or  pouring  out  their  talents  before  senates,  or, 
aided  by  wealth  and  power,  lifted  up  to  the  high  temples 
of  literature  and  science  %  Why  must  sickness  and 
penury  be  thrown  over  souls  which  God  has  made  of  his 
purest  essence  ?  Thank  Heaven,  we  know  that  this 
question  will  be  well  answered  when  we  see  them  in 


66  RECOLLECTIONS    OP  'A 

their  white  robes  hymning  strains  the  first  and  richest 
among  the  heavenly  choir  ! 

It  was  well  for  me  that  Charles  Duncan  instructed  us. 
Madame  was  a  conscientious  teacher,  but  her  conscience 
only  embraced  externals.  I  practised  two  hours  daily 
my  musical  tasks,  and  delighted  my  papa  by  addressing 
the  French  consul,  on  a  visit  to  Charleston,  with  a  mix- 
ture of  pertness  and  bashfulness,  in  his  native  tongue. 
Papa  was  satisfied  if  he  paid  round  sums  of  money  for 
my  education,  and  mamma  was  easy  if  my  teachers  seemed 
busy.  Until  Duncan  came,  my  mind  was  the  only  in- 
strument exercised,  and  that  was  swayed  by  earthly 
hands.  True,  my  heart  was  open,  and  many  a  kind 
breeze  of  nature  swept  over  its  chords  ;  but  he  tuned  them 
both  to  harmony,  and  brought  out  those  tones  which 
liken  us  to  angels,  and  yet  fit  us  for  the  world.  His 
searching  but  frequent  question  was,  Are  you  acting  from 
duty,  from  principle,  as  in  the  sight  of  God  l 

Papa  was  at  first  opposed  to  the  full  cultivation  of  my 
mind  in  the  branches  studied  by  my  brothers.  He 
laughed  and  said,  "  The  girl  would  consider  herself  more 
learned  than  her  father." 

"  Why  should  she  not,"  said  Duncan,  "  if  humility  be 
so  wrought  in  her  as  to  make  her  feel  her  own  inferiority 
to  the  true  standard  of  mind  !  Fear  not,  Colonel  Wilton  ! 
Intellectual  women  are  the  most  modest  inquirers  after 
truth,  and  accomplished  women  often  the  most  scrupulous 
observers  of  social  duty." 

"  Well,  well,"  answered  papa,  "  only  do  not  spoil  her 
eyes  and  shoulders,  and  let  her  be  ready  for  my  morning 
ride  on  horseback,  and  you  may  teach  her  the  remainder 
of  the  day.  By-the-way,  Cornelia,  are  you  never  going 
to  hold  your  whip-hand  steady  ;  you  jerk  it  like  a  cracker* 
woman  !  Your  head  should  be  a  little  higher  too,  though 
it  is  pretty  well.  The  Wiltons  are  not  often  accused  of 
that  fault."  Then,  whistling  to  his  dogs,  he  left  me  to  my 
studies. 

Whatever  may  be  the  difficulty  of  parental  instruction 

*  Appellation  given  to  the  back  country  people,  who  use  long  whips 
with  their  wagons,  which  they  crack  to  stimulate  the  team. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  57 

on  a  Southern  plantation,  none  is  experienced  by  the  ju- 
dicious private  teacher.  Here  is  no  copying  of  others, 
no  meretricious  ambition  from  the  struggle  after  pre-emi- 
nence. 

"  The  native  heart  bursts  through,  and  scorns  disguise." 

In  these  far  woods,  breathing  space  is  given  for  the 
young  pulsations  of  the  opening  feelings.  There  may  be 
the  danger  of  the  aristocracy  of  solitude,  but  the  little  ir- 
ritations, the  paltry  rivalry  of  schools  is  unknown. 

It  was  not  merely  in  hours  of  recitation  that  we  were 
taught ;  and  I  can  recollect  now,  though  then  perhaps  I 
did  not  observe  it,  that  my  teacher  associated  every  ob- 
ject with  some  elevated  motive.  I  never  saw  a  mind  so 
inwrought  with  heaven,  and  yet  he  was  sportive,  and  no 
laugh  rang  more  clearly  than  his,  awakening  the  very 
echo  in  its  joy.  He  taught  me  to  be  a  happy  early  riser, 
and  pointed  out  to  me  the  glories  of  kindling  morning ;  I 
gathered  and  dissected  wild  flowers  by  his  side ;  we 
watched  the  stars  in  their  silent  courses  together,  until  I 
could  welcome  each  like  familiar  eyes.  Once  I  shrank 
from  a  storm,  but  he  pointed  out  to  me  God's  hand  issu- 
ing in  love,  not  anger,  from  the  tempest,  and  I  was  calmed. 
He  sang  with  me,  taught  me  to  distinguish  what  was 
false  in  sentiment  in  my  songs,  and  by  some  poetical 
change  brought  a  pure  spirit  into  this  court  of  folly ;  he 
read  to  me,  and  the  breathings  of  the  muse  went  down 
into  my  heart,  calling  up  from  unknown  depths  new  cre- 
ations of  sentiment ;  he  selected  tales  of  romance,  until 
I  could  discriminate  between  the  fallacious  and  the  imi- 
table.  Even  history  in  his  hands  was  a  medium  of 
pleasure ;  he  never  read  to  me  the  fatiguing  details  of 
war ;  connecting  events  by  interesting  associations,  and 
drawing  characters  in  strong  contrasts,  or  singling  them 
out  like  so  many  pictures,  he  brought  before  me  warriors 
and  statesmen  in  their  respective  eras,  until  they  stood 
as  living  things  in  my  imagination. 

Unable  to  follow  my  brothers  in  their  rambling  amuse- 
ments, we  were  thrown  constantly  together,  and  the 
whole  aim  of  his  being  seemed  to  be  to  train  me  like 


J 


58  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

some  tender  plant,  and  not  only  to  shed  sweet  dews 
around  me,  and  keep  every  weed  from  my  side,  but  to 
prop  me  with  truth,  and  preserve  my  upward  tendencies 
unswerved.  With  him  I  breathed  the  very  atmosphere 
of  piety  ;  the  study  of  the  character  and  words  of  the 
Saviour  seemed  like  sunshine  to  his  soul — Cornelia,  he 
said,  drink  deep  at  this  fountain,  it  is  a  well  of  life. 

Two  years  passed  away  with  the  customary  change 
between  Springland  and  the  plantation ;  Duncan  was 
still  with  us,  and  an  addition  was  formed  to  our  circle 
by  the  daily  visits  of  Lewis  Barnwell,  a  youth  of  eighteen, 
and  the  son  of  a  neighbour.  He  had  returned  from  col- 
lege, for  private  reasons,  to  pursue  his  studies  at  home 
previous  to  graduating.  He  applied  to  Duncan  for  in- 
struction, and  thus  was  an  almost  constant  inmate  of  our 
residence. 

A  change  was  gradually  wrought.  If  I  entered  a 
pleasure-boat,  it  was  Lewis,  not  Duncan,  who  sat  at  my 
side  ;  if  I  rode  with  Duncan,  Lewis  was  soon  seen  gal- 
loping through  the  avenue,  and,  without  any  effort  of 
mine,  chatting  of  everything  at  my  elbow,  while  Duncan 
silently  dropped  behind ;  every  question  apart  from  my 
studies,  and  every  expression  of  my  thoughts  which 
Duncan  had  been  accustomed  to  answer,  seemed  wrested 
away  from  him.  At  table,  Lewis  anticipated  every  wish 
and  motion  as  if  it  were  his  right  to  make  me  happy,  and 
this  was  so  gradual  that  /  scarcely  marked  the  difference. 
Had  I  been  older  I  might  have  noticed  an  abstraction  of 
manner  steal  over  my  dear  tutor,  with  sometimes  a 
deeper  flush,  and  sometimes  a  sudden  paleness  on  his 
cheek  ;  I  should  have  observed  him  precipitately  retreat- 
ing when  Lewis  and  I  jested  over  the  playful  topics  of 
youth,  and  as  precipitately  returning,  to  notice  without 
mingling  in  our  mirth. 

One  morning,  however,  my  attention  was  effectually 
drawn  to  him.  As  we  were  standing  in  the  piazza  after 
breakfast,  a  servant  came  from  the  Elms,  Mr.  Barnwell's 
residence,  with  a  bunch  of  flowers,  with  Master  Lewis's 
compliments  to  Miss  Cornelia.  Duncan  took  them, 
looked  a  moment  at  the  collection  ;  a  contortion  like  one 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  59 

ki  deep  suffering  passed  over  his  face  ;  he  turned  deadly 
pale,  and  sank  on  a  seat,  while  the  flowers  dropped 
from  his  hand.  I  hastened  to  him,  and  Richard  brought 
me  some  cologne  water,  with  which  I  bathed  his  forehead. 
He  bore  it  for  a  moment,  the  same  expression  of  suffer- 
ing again  passed  across  his  countenance,  and  he  said 
with  a  stifled  voice,  "  Take  away  your  hand,  for  God's 
sake,  Miss  Wilton !" 

Miss  Wilton  !  Richard  and  I  looked  at  each  other  with 
surprise. 

"  He  is  very  ill,"  said  I,  innocently  ;  "  call  mamma" — 
but,  with  an  effort,  he  recovered,  saying  he  had  been 
liable  to  sudden  faintness  when  at  college,  and  he  thought 
it  was  returning  upon  him. 

"  I  fear,  in  my  absence  of  mind,"  continued  he,  "  that 
I  spoke  harshly  to  you,  my  dear  Cornelia — shake  hands 
with  me  and  forgive  me." 

I  gave  him  my  hand  ;  and  as  it  rested  a  moment  in 
his,  I  gazed  on  him  with  an  affecting  presentiment  of 
evil  totally  undefinable.  Again  a  shade  crossed  his  ex- 
pressive countenance,  not  so  deep,  but  of  the  same  char- 
acter as  before  ;  and  sighing  as  if  the  very  fount  of  feeling 
were  loosened,  he  resigned  my  hand. 

I  took  up  the  bouquet  which  had  been  neglected  on  the 
floor.  To  a  forget-me-not  was  attached  my  name  in 
Lewis's  handwriting.  I  glanced  at  Duncan,  and  blushed 
intensely,  while  he  regarded  me  with  a  penetrating  gaze, 
from  which  I  gladly  turned  away.  I  hurried  to  my  own 
apartment,  and  sat  and  mused  for  some  time  with  the 
flowers  in  my  hand ;  and,  though  without  any  fixed  im- 
pressions, I  separated  the  forget-me-not  from  the  bouquet, 
and  placed  it  in  my  hair. 

How  difficult  is  it  for  growing  age  to  recall  the  emotions 
of  that  period  of  life,  when  on  a  look,  a  word,  a  touch, 
may  rest  the  history  of  years  !  What  a  tale  was  told  by 
that  little  flower,  how  many  feelings  unfolded  !  Lewis 
joined  us  in  our  evening  stroll,  and  a  bright  glow  lighted 
up  his  features  as  he  recognise'd  the  fl6wer  in  my  hair. 

The  morning  after  this  little  development,  which 
after    all,  I    scarcely  understood   or  dwelt   upon,    Mr. 


60  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

Duncan  was  requested  by  papa  to  accompany  me  in  my 
ride. 

"  I  have  never  showed  you  my  magnolia,"  said  he ; 
"  the  warm  spring  has  developed  its  blossoms  unusually 
early.  If  you  will  bear  a  slow  ride  among  the  bushes, 
we  will  visit  it."  I  assented;  and,  preceded  byToney, 
a  little  crow-minder  who  was  off  duty,  and  who  ran  in 
front  to  part  the  bushes,  we  commenced  our  excursion, 
scattering  the  dewdrops  at  every  step.  I  had  entirely 
forgotten  the  excitement  of  yesterday  ;  and,  as  we  walked 
our  horses,  I  poured  forth  all  the  thoughts  of  a  happy 
confiding  heart,  while  Toney,  who  was  often  my  attend- 
ant on  such  excursions,  began  his  task  of  gallantry,  and 
gathered  flowers  for  my  herbarium. 

After  a  ride  of  two  miles  we  reached  the  magnolia. 
Mr.  Duncan  had  caused  the  brushwood  to  be  cleared 
from  beneath  it,  and  it  stood  alone,  except  that  a  vine  had 
clung  (as  they  seem  to  do  by  magic  in  our  woods)  to 
one  of  the  outer  branches,  and,  rising  and  descending 
again  and  again  to  an  incredible  distance,  formed  with 
its  intertwining  arms  a  giant  trunk.  The  magnolia,  the 
queen  of  the  Southern  forest,  stood  with  her  large  white 
blossoms  resting  on  her  polished  leaves,  sending  out  afar 
her  delicious  perfume. 

"  I  must  have  a  blossom,  Mr.  Duncan,"  said  I,  as  we 
alighted,  "  to  remember  your  tree  by." 

With  one  of  his  bright  smiles  he  went  to  an  opposite 
branch  where  a  flower  seemed  attainable,  while  I  at- 
tempted to  draw  down  another  which  was  above  me  with 
my  whip.  At  this  moment  I  heard  Lewis's  voice  in  a 
gay  "  good-morning  ;"  and  carelessly  turning,  at  his  sal- 
utation, while  springing  to  gain  the  blossom,  I  fell  with 
violence  to  the  ground. 

My  head  had  struck  against  a  fallen  tree,  and  I  was  in- 
sensible. In  my  first  consciousness,  I  uttered  the  name 
of  Lewis.  I  perceived  myself  lying  in  the  arms  of  some 
one,  who  gave  me  a  momentary  but  shivering  pressure. 
I  then  felt  myself  gently  placed  in  the  arms  of  another. 
I  opened  my  eyes,  Lewis  was  supporting  me,  and  Mr. 
Duncan,  pale  as  a  marble  statue,  leaned  against  the  mag- 
nolia. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  61 

"  Is  Mr.  Duncan  ill  ?"  I  said,  as  a  breeze  sweeping 
across  my  brow  gave  me  sudden  consciousness. 

"  He  loves  you,"  said  Lewis,  in  an  agitated  whisper. 
"  He  would  willingly  die  for  you.  "Which  of  us  shall 
live  for  you,  dearest  V — and,  with  a  renewed  recollection 
of  my  danger,  he  pressed  his  hand  on  my  forehead  as  if 
to  assure  himself  that  life  was  there. 

Duncan  looked  on.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  struggled 
with  his  excited  spirit ;  without  uttering  a  word,  he  stood 
until  Lewis  lifted  me  to  my  saddle,  and  then,  heart-struck, 
alas  !  I  saw  it,  I  saw  it,  he  turned  towards  home. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

CHARLES    DUNCAN. 

"  By  solemn  vision,  and  bright  silver  dream, 
His  infancy  was  nurtured.     Every  sight 
And  sound  from  the  vast  earth  and  ambient  air, 
Sent  to  his  heart  its  choicest  impulses. 
The  fountains  of  divine  philosophy 
Fled  not  his  thirsting  lips,  and  all  of  great, 
Or  good,  or  lovely,  which  the  sacred  past 
In  truth  or  fable  consecrates,  he  felt 
And  knew — Shelley. 

"  He  needs  not  glory's  wreath 
To  keep  his  memory  from  the  blight  of  years." 

Mrs.  Hale, 

From  the  day  of  our  visit  to  the  magnolia,  Mr.  Dun- 
can's manners  were  marked  by  a  series  of  respectful  at- 
tentions, and  a  nice  deference  to  social  forms.  But 
while  devoted  to  every  duty,  he  became  a  lonely  ram- 
bler in  the  woods,  or  secluded  himself  in  his  study,  and 
a  light  was  visible  in  his  apartment  when  the  latest  mem- 
ber of  the  family  retired.  The  bright  spot  on  his  cheek 
grew  brighter,  his  hands  became  thin,  and  we  could  see 
their  blue  veins  as  they  lay  in  langour  at  his  side.  At 
length  a  short  restrained  cough  followed  ever}"  exertion ; 
he  clung  to  the  balustrade  in  ascending  the  steps,  and 
F 


62  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

looked  with  an  eager  eye  to  a  resting-place  after  his 
walks,  which  were  daily  more  circumscribed.  An  en- 
emy, which  perhaps  answered  sympathy  would  have  long- 
er lulled,  was  roused,  and  consumption  revelled  through 
his  frame.  Sometimes  it  was  exhibited  in  deep  and  si- 
lent despondency  ;  sometimes  his  eye  was  illuminated 
with  unnatural  lustre  ;  and  occasionally  his  fine  intellect 
jarred  with  the  breaking  of  his  corporeal  powers. 

He  began  to  speak  of  his  childhood — of  his  home,  of 
the  old  elm  that  shaded  the  sloping  hill  at  his  father's 
door,  and  to  long  for  a  draught  of  water  from  the  well  be- 
neath its  shade.  Then  a  deadly  heaviness  and  debility 
came  over  his  frame,  and  light  fancies  floated  on  his 
mind.  He  talked  of  the  vessel  that  was  to  bear  him 
away,  and  I  was  to  be  his  companion. 

"  Cornelia  and  he,"  he  said,  "  would  gaze  on  the  wide 
ocean  together ;  he  would  show  her  God's  power  on  the 
deep — he  would  carry  her  to  his  native  home,  where  the 
wild  flowers  sprang  up,  and  the  birds  were  bright  as  here  ; 
his  father's  hand  should  rest  on  her  sunny  curls,  and  he 
would  love  the  tenderness  in  her  bright  eyes — they  would 
listen  to  him  in  the  old  meeting-house,  where  the  prayers 
were  purer  and  the  hymns  sweeter  than  aught  in  the 
wide  world.  He  was  not  rich,  but  what  were  riches  to 
true  love  ?  Cornelia  and  he  could  live  together  beneath 
his  father's  roof — the  old  man  would  be  kind  to  them, 
and  his  hearth  was  warm." 

Then  a  change  came  over  him,  and  he  talked  of  fame. 
"  They  shall  hear  me,"  he  exclaimed  (and  his  thrilling 
voice  rang  upon  my  ear,  while  his  arm  was  stretched 
forward  with  graceful  energy).  "  Think  you  that  strong 
thought  can  be  chained  ?  You  may  restrain  a  torrent  in 
its  course,  but  mind  will  on,  on  with  its  master  impulse. 
You  think  me  weak,  Cornelia"  (for  I  was  gazing  with 
deep  commiseration  at  his  panting  chest)  ;  "  but  you  know 
not  what  can  be  done  by  will.  I  will  advocate  truth — I 
will  crush  error — I  will  lift  up  the  feeble,  and  bring  down 
the  haughty,  and  to  God  shall  be  the  praise." 

It  was  now  that  mamma's  quiet  virtues  shone  beyond 
the  glare  of  intellectual  accomplishments.     She  attended 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  63 

him  devotedly  ;  prepared  luxuries  for  his  taste  ;  watched 
his  looks  with  untiring  but  delicate  assiduity  ;  made 
every  arrangement  for  his  contemplated  voyage ;  and 
when  I,  melted  by  unaffected  distress,  retreated  to  weep 
in  silence,  she  nursed  him  like  the  son  of  her  bosom. 

Nature  was  still  beautiful  to  him,  and  he  held  his  hand 
eagerly  for  the  garden  bouquet  which  was  my  daily  gift ; 
while  a  smile  (it  lingers  yet  like  a  sunset  glow  on  the 
mountain  height  of  memory),  a  grateful,  gentle  smile,  light- 
ed up  his  features,  as,  with  a  few  murmured  words,  unheard 
by  me,  he  bent  his  lips  over  the  blossoms. 

Lewis  was  full  of  kind  attentions,  and  Duncan  re- 
ceived him  with  a  look  of  welcome  ;  but  we  observed 
that  it  increased  the  nervous  wandering  of  his  thoughts 
to  see  him. 

"  Father  knows  the  spot  where  I  am  to  be  buried,"  he 
said  one  day  after  an  interview  with  him,  "  just  beside 
my  mother's  grave,  where  the  barberry  bushes  rise  over 
the  stone  wall.  The  graveyard  is  large  enough  for  us. 
Just  beside  my  mother — my  mother — my  mother,"  he  con- 
tinued, in  almost  a  whisper — "  what  a  small  hand  was  this 
when  she  pressed  it  for  the  last  time — smaller  than  Corne- 
lia's !"  Then  he  gazed  on  his  thin  hand,  until,  wearied  with 
thought,  his  head  reclined  on  his  arm-chair,  and  he  slept. 

This  excitement  yielded  to  medical  aid ;  and  the  contrast 
of  his  clear  and  energetic  mind,  as  his  fever  subsided,  in 
the  view  of  his  probable  death,  was  singularly  affecting. 

We  removed  to  the  city  with  him  in  order  to  facilitate 
his  departure  home.  It  was  one  of  our  bright  May  morn- 
ings the  day  before  he  sailed,  and  mamma  and  I  were 
sitting  beside  him.  He  looked  round  at  the  various  tes- 
timonials which  were  collected  in  his  room  from  our  kind 
acquaintances — those  affecting,  spontaneous  exhibitions 
of  hospitality,  which  almost  invariably  sooth  the  sick 
stranger  in  Southern  cities,  who  feels,  when  far  from  the 
domestic  relations  which  once  comforted  his  desponding 
moments,  that  these  slight  attentions  are  the  most  exqui- 
site recompense  he  can  receive. 

A  servant  brought  a  choice  collection  of  flowers  from 
the  garden  of  a  florist — on  one  of  the  blossoms  was  pinned 


64  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

a  note,  written  with  a  delicate  hand — "  A  stranger's  kind 
wishes  for  the  invalid." 

Duncan  smiled.  "  This  is  the  way  you  win  our 
hearts,"  said  he ;  and  after  gazing  for  some  moments  on 
the  flowers,  he  continued  mournfully,  "  These  are  the  last 
southern  flowers  I  shall  ever  see,  Mrs.  Wilton." 

Mamma  was  silent ;  I  laid  my  face  on  the  arm  of  his 
chair,  and  my  tears  trickled  down  on  his  wasted  hand. 
"  Be  calm,  Cornelia,"  he  said.  "  I  have  done  little,  if  I 
have  only  educated  you  for  life.  My  aim  has  been  higher  ; 
but  if  some  of  my  teachings  have  been  lost  on  one  so 
young,  I  hope  that  my  death  may  be  an  impressive  les- 
son. This  composure  of  mine  has  not  been  attained 
without  a  struggle,  without  prayer,  without  the  severance 
of  ties  that  have  bound  me  with  a  grasp  of  iron.  But  I 
am  calm.  The  sunshine  which  looks  so  brightly  upon 
us  is  faint  compared  with  those  views  of  heaven  that 
break  at  times  on  my  imagination — these  flowers,  fresh 
and  gorgeous,  and  cultured  though  they  be,  are  almost 
colourless  to  an  eye  that  looks  forward  to  celestial  bow- 
ers. Mrs.  "Wilton,  may  I  tell  Cornelia  a  story  to  teach 
her  not  to  place  her  affections  too  strongly  on  earth,  or,  at 
least"  (and  he  glanced  upward),  "  to  give  her  a  resource 
if  earth  should  fail  V 

Mamma  gently  smiled  her  acquiescence. 

"  I  knew  a  youth,"  he  said,  "  whose  temperament  led 
him  to  extremes  ;  one  who,  though  untiring  in  energy,  sank 
under  disappointment ;  if  he  lost  a  bird  or  a  flower  that 
he  had  trained  and  loved,  he  wept  passionate  tears ;  and 
if  thwarted,  his  will  rose  in  angry  defiance.  He  lost  his 
mother  just  at  the  period  when  her  control  was  most  val- 
uable to  him.  He  had  never  been  parted  from  her  be- 
fore ;  she  had  awoke  him  every  morning  with  her  smile  ; 
and  every  evening,  though  half  ashamed  at  the  indul- 
gence, he  stole  to  her  side,  laid  his  head  on  her  knee, 
and  felt  her  gentle  fingers  twining  his  hair,  or  pressing 
his  sleepy  eyelids.  She  died ;  it  was  his  first  sorrow, 
and  it  cut  his  soul  as  the  strong  axe  of  the  woodman 
severs  the  sapling.  He  threw  himself  on  her  cold  stiff- 
ened form,  and  when  that  was  wrested  from  him  he  tore 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  65 

up  the  soil  with  his  young  hands,  and  sought  to  bury  him- 
self with  her.  A  mind  like  this  required  gentle  training, 
but  it  also  required  strong  motives  to  virtue.  His  father 
guarded  him  with  tender  yet  vigorous  care,  and  watched 
him  as  we  watch  the  pulse  of  fever,  and  administer  to 
its  wants  or  check  its  excitement.  He  found  that,  for 
such  a  temperament,  a  high  and  ennobling  example  must 
be  held  up,  and  a  fair  and  glorious  hope.  Earth,  Cor- 
nelia, affords  no  spot  where  such  spirits  can  rest ;  it 
quenches  not  their  thirst — they  must  drink  at  an  inex- 
haustible fountain,  or  they  die. 

"  The  father  of  the  youth  pointed  out  this  fountain  in 
the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  with  dexterous  art  directed  him 
how  and  where  to  find  it.  Under  these  influences,  which 
levelled  his  impetuous  feelings  to  their  true  standard,  he 
pursued  his  collegiate  studies.  Can  I  call  them  studies  ? 
He  played  with  the  deep  things  of  science  as  a  child 
wields  its  toys  ;  mastered  them  while  others  were  conning 
their  first  lessons,  and  bore  off  honours  as  easily  as  the 
wind  carries  clouds.  But  he  was  poor  ;  and  when  his  am- 
bitious hopes  were  winging  their  flight  to  future  fame,  that 
cold  conviction  came  and  struck  them  to  the  earth.  He 
toiled  night  and  day  for  a  pittance  which  the  rich  man  ex- 
pends on  a  bawble,  but  he  toiled  in  vain  ;  a  feverish  flame 
was  consuming  him ;  it  would  have  consumed  him  quite, 
had  not  religious  patience  whispered  quietness  to  his  ex- 
cited spirit  and  burning  frame.  Sickness  came  on,  that 
cloud  out  of  which  speaks  a  voice  of  mercy,  and  he  was  or- 
dered to  a  Southern  climate  ;  the  climate  of  generous  and 
tender  hearts,  my  friends  (and  he  clasped  our  hands  in  his). 
Under  the  soothing  influences  of  this  change  he  recovered  ; 
his  nerves  were  new  strung — he  trod  on  flowers — hope 
lighted  up  his  way,  and  a  thought  came  over  him  again,  that 
by  high  intellectual  exertion  he  might  rise  to  a  level 
with  kindred  minds. 

"  A  young  pupil  was  intrusted  to  him  in  the  fresh 
morning  of  intelligence  ;  blessed  with  such  a  growth  of 
mental  luxury  that  he  scarcely  knew  where  to  stop  in 
training  her  powers,  and  making  them  worthy  of  the  form 
which  enshrined  them.  Nay,  start  not,  Cornelia  ;  I  speak 
F  2 


66  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men.  I  have  never  before  told 
you  you  were  beautiful ;  had  your  mind  been  less  lovely, 
your  person,  perhaps,  would  have  attracted  me  more  ;  but 
your  intellect  and  your  young  affections  were  all  to  me. 

"  I  had  a  dream  of  hope,  wild  and  unfixed  I  am  aware, 
but  it  beguiled  me  into  happiness.  I  meant  to  have  shut 
it  up  in  my  own  breast,  gone  abroad  into  the  world,  won 
a  place  among  men,  brought  back  a  name  and  laid  it  at 
your  feet,  and  asked  you  of  your  father ;  but  another 
came.  I  saw  your  eye  kindle  for  him  when  it  was  only 
kind  to  me.  I  saw  you  blush  at  his  name  when  my 
voice  was  scarcely  heard.  I  knew  these  indications  too 
well ;  my  heart  echoed  the  truth  they  told  at  every  throb 
— for  a  while  I  knew  them  in  bitterness  of  spirit. 

"  Think  not  that  I  am  dying  of  love,"  he  continued,  as 
my  sobs  interrupted  his  narrative.  "  The  dart  of  disease 
was  long  since  lodged  in  my  system.  Had  I  been  in 
health,  my  vaulting  ambition  for  earthly  distinction,  and 
those  religious  influences  which  kept  it  in  check,  would 
have  enabled  my  mind  to  recover  its  tone  even  in 
witnessing  your  preference  for  another.  Now,  in  the 
prospect  of  the  grave,  I  can  give  up  this  precious  hand 
almost  without  a  sigh — my  hopes  rest  elsewhere." 

Duncan  sailed  on  the  following  day,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  the  world  was  a  wilderness.  I  lingered  on  the 
spot  where  I  had  heard  his  last  words ;  I  visited  his  apart- 
ment, touched  his  books  with  reverent  grief,  and  when  I 
saw  passages  marked  by  his  hand,  my  gushing  tears  fell 
in  renewed  tenderness. 

Many  years  afterward  I  visited  the  northern  section  of 
our  country.  I  saw  its  glowing  orchards,  its  lofty  hills, 
its  cultivated  vales  ;  I  enjoyed  all  that  is  high  and  intel- 
lectual in  its  society  ;  I  admired  its  institutions,  supported 
by  combined  generosity,  rising  in  perfect  harmony;  I  be- 
held commerce  whitening  its  seas,  and  agriculture  busy 
with  its  soil :  I  lingered  breathless  and  awestruck  before 
the  great  Niagara,  and  gazed  with  calmer  joy  on  the  placid 
lakes  that  lie  like  quiet  faces  on  the  cultured  bosom  of 
New-York  ;  I  stood  in  the  clouds  on  the  summit  of  the 
White  Mountains,  and  gathered  flowers  in  the  meadows 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  67 

below  ;  but  when  was  my  heart  most  thrilled  and  soft- 
ened, when  did  I  feel  that  all  that  is  gorgeous  and  lovely 
on  earth  is  but  a  trumpet  note  that  sounds  for  heaven  1  It 
was  when,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  venerable  man,  whose 
gray  hair  and  trembling  step  was  mocked  by  the  living 
lustre  of  a  smile,  that  spoke  of  undying  mind,  I  visited 
the  burial-place  of ,  and  read  the  inscription, 

"  Sacred  to  the  memory  of 

CHARLES  DUNCAN, 

aged  24. 

Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    BOAT-SONG. TRIALS. 

"  1  would  not  enter  on  my  list  of  friends 
(Though  graced  with  polish'd  manners  and  fine  sense, 
Yet  wanting  sensibility)  the  man 
Who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon  a  worm." — Task. 

"  Play  the  fool  on  Sundays — 
If  he  the  tinkling  harpsichord  regards 
As  inoffensive,  what  offence  in  cards  ? 
Strike  up  the  fiddles,  let  us  all  be  gay !" 

Progress  of  Error. 

Duncan's  departure  was  indeed  an  impressive  lesson, 
for  I  knew  that  he  must  die  ;  and  this  event,  more  than 
any  other,  served  to  create  the  vivid  impression  which 
I  have  always  felt  of  the  close  connexion  between  mor- 
tals and  immortality.  Perhaps,  had  I  seen  the  pangs  of 
dissolution,  and  witnessed  his  form  laid  in  its  narrow 
house,  and  heard  the  winds  rush  over  his  grave  without 
chilling  his  repose,  and  seen  the  sun  shed  down  its  light 
upon  it  without  unclosing  those  eyes  which  had  so  often 
sparkled  in  its  rays,  I  might  have  dwelt  on  his  material- 
ity ;  but  from  the  moment  that  he  pressed  my  hand  in 
parting,  and  gave  a  last  melancholy  smile  as  the  car- 


68  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

riage  drove  from  the  door,  I  connected  him  with  heaven. 
I  said,  His  mind  cannot  die. 

Early  in  November  we  departed  for  the  plantation. 
Lewis,  who  with  his  family  had  been  residing  at  Spring- 
land  through  the  summer,  hastened  from  the  Elms  after 
our  temporary  separation  to  welcome  us.  His  feelings 
were  touched  by  the  loss  of  our  friend,  and  his  sympathy 
made  him  doubly  welcome.  I  soon  found,  however,  that 
the  force  of  Duncan's  example,  which  had  evidently  been 
a  check  on  his  manners,  wore  away,  and  occasionally  he 
uttered  an  oath,  or  a  sentiment  forbidden  in  the  Chris- 
tian school  of  love  and  purity.  The  elasticity  of  sixteen 
did  not  conceal  from  me  that  this  was  wrong ;  for  the 
principles  implanted  by  Duncan  forbade  my  contempla- 
ting the  indulgence  of  trifling  error  with  complacency, 
and  his  departure  made .  me  revert  to  his  lessons  as  a 
sacred  gift  committed  to  my  care.  I  observed  with  sor- 
row, that  whoever  did  not  reach  a  certain  standard  of 
taste  and  fashion,  were  subjects  of  Lewis's  ridicule  ; 
goodness  seemed  to  him  nothing  for  its  own  sake  ;  he 
cared  not  for  the  warmth  of  the  sun  without  its  glare. 
Generous,  and  even  lavish  in  his  habits,  he  was  penuri- 
ous in  that  best  of  all  charity  that  studies  the  feelings  of 
others.  Yet  he  was  our  guest,  and  commanded  my 
courtesy  ;  and  there  was,  besides,  a  fascination  about 
him  that  won  my  favour.  It  is  impossible  for  a  young 
girl  to  see  a  discriminating  man  assume  the  most  defer- 
ential deportment  to  her,  while  ridiculing  others,  without 
some  vanity  ;  and  as  I  trusted  that  his  heart  was  right,  I 
enjoyed  his  humorous  satire,  hoping  not  to  compromise 
my  sense  of  rectitude  by  it ;  and  the  bright  intellect  of 
Lewis,  his  playful  manners,  his  devotion  to  me,  and  the 
sympathy  of  youth,  would  probably  have  taken  my  affec- 
tions captive  at  once,  had  not  the  character  of  Duncan, 
and  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  his  departure,  created 
for  me  an  elevated  standard  of  manly  virtue,  and  rather 
turned  the  romance  of  early  feeling  towards  his  memory. 

My  parents'  sincere  respect  had  been  awakened  by 
Duncan's  character.  How  delightful  is  it  to  think  that 
goodness  multiplies  itself,  and  that,  in  the  ocean  of  wrong, 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  69 

one  little  point  of  truth  may  move  circle  on  circle  almost 
indefinitely !  Papa  rejoiced,  as  all  men,  even  the  profli- 
gate', will  rejoice,  to  see  his  daughter's  mind  trained  to 
piety  ;  and  mamma,  in  her  faithful  attendance  on  Dun- 
can's wants,  perceived  a  purer  atmosphere  created  around 
her  earthly  path.  New  ties  were  awakened  between  us, 
and  I  soon  found  an  echo  in  her  heart  unknown  to  me 
before. 

The  time  was  rapidly  approaching  for  Lewis's  return 
to  college :  those  delicate  and  frequent  attentions,  which 
tell  the  tale  of  the  heart,  were  certainly  not  without  their 
power  in  softening  mine,  and  I  lost  my  sadness  at  the 
thought  of  Duncan. 

One  line  afternoon  my  brothers  and  myself  visited  the 
Elms  in  a  row-boat,  and  Lewis  returned  with  us  by  the 
light  of  the  moon,  which  looked  down  on  the  silvery 
waves  of  the  Ashley  as  if  refreshed  with  its  own  fair 
image.  The  foliage  of  the  trees  was  pictured  like  sunken 
forests  of  verdure  in  the  pellucid  stream.  The  call  of  a 
night-bird  to  its  mate,  a  boat-horn  waking  the  echoes, 
and  the  mysterious  talk  of  solitary  nature,  were  the  only 
sounds  abroad,  and  these  were  drowned  in  the  plash  of 
our  oars,  and  the  bursts  of  laughter  from  our  merry  group. 

"  Come,  Juba,"  said  Lewis  to  the  head  oarsman,  "  sing 
us  a  song ;  the  boys*  will  help  you." 

"  How  you  been  ax  me  for  sing,  Maus  Lewis  ?  Me 
an't  got  no  voice  for  sing,"  answered  Juba,  who,  like 
many  of  his  brethren,  required  as  much  urging  as  a  city 
belle. 

After  delaying  until  we  had  almost  forgotten  our  re- 
quest, Juba  commenced  a  tune,  the  oarsmen  striking  in 
with  a  full  but  untaught  counter  at  the  last  word  of  every 
line. 

"  Hi  de  good  boat  Neely  !f 
She  row  bery  fast,  Miss  Neely  ! 
An't  no  boat  like  a'  Miss  Neely, 
Ho  yoi' ! 

*  Boys,  a  terra  used  to  negroes  even  of  a  mature  age. 
t  Plantation  boats  are  often  named  for  members  of  a  family.    The 
cfeerus  of  one  of  the  prettiest  boat-songs  I  ever  heard,  was  Eliza, 


70  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

"  Who  gawing  to  row  wid  Miss  Neely? 
Can't  catch  a'  dis  boat  Neely — 
Nobody  show  he  face  wid  Neely, 
Ho  yoi'?" 

As  Juba  concluded  this  verse  he  paused ;  a  sly  ex- 
pression passed  over  his  face ;  he  put  an  additional  quid 
of  tobacco  in  his  mouth,  and  went  on — 

"  Maybe  Maus  Lewis  take  de  oar  for  Neely, 
Bery  handsome  boat  Miss  Neely  ! 
Maus  Lewis  nice  captain  for  Neely, 
Ho  yoi'!" 

The  verse  was  welcomed  with  shouts  of  laughter, 
and  called  for  again  and  again,  until  the  echoes  of  the 
Ashley  shouted  "  encore  !"  but  all  the  solicitations  of 
the  young  men  were  ineffectual  with  Juba,  who  looked 
the  personification  of  composure. 

It  is  not  remarkable  that  my  thoughts  should  have 
been  occupied,  in  a  lonely  stroll  on  the  following  day, 
with  the  subject  of  Juba's  song,  nor  that  I  should  turn 
my  steps  to  a  footpath  which  had  been  trodden  by  the 
negroes  from  Mr.  Barnwell's  residence  to  ours.  Not, 
of  course,  to  go  there,  for  it  was  two  miles  off,  but  it  was 
a  sweet  romantic  walk,  and  for  half  the  distance  branch- 
ing trees  knit  by  clustering  vines  formed  a  secluded  and 
delicious  arbour.  I  strayed  on,  animated  by  those 
thoughts  and  reveries  that  lift  the  form  along  like  a 
bird's.  At  one  point  the  scenery  was  so  lovely  that  I 
stopped  to  gaze  on  it,  and  my  elastic  feelings  were  about 
bursting  out  into  song,  when  I  heard  a  groan.  I  started  ; 
it  was  repeated ;  I  knew  from  the  accompanying  ejacu- 
lation that  it  was  from  a  negro,  and,  as  a  planter's  daugh- 
ter fears  none  but  white  men,  I  hastened  to  discover  the 
object.  I  was  surprised,  on  turning  from  the  path,  to 
find  among  the  bushes  a  servant  of  Mr.  Barnwell's  dis- 
abled. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Bill  V  said  I  to  the  boy,  who 
was  about  sixteen  years  of  age.  He  looked  sullenly, 
and  gave  no  reply. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?"  said  I.  "  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ! 
I  can  go  home,  or  even  to  Mr.  Barnwell's,  and  get  help. 
Master  Lewis  will  come  to  you  in  a  moment." 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  71 

*'  Bill  no  want  Maus  Lewis,"  said  the  boy,  bitterly, 
Shaking  his  head.  "  If  old  maussa  come,  bery  well,  but 
Maus  Lewis — "  I  could  not  distinguish  the  remainder 
of  the  sentence. 

I  was  perplexed  to  know  what  to  do,  and  was  turning 
homeward,  when  another  groan  arrested  my  attention, 
and  I  saw  Bill  attempt  to  rise,  in  evident  pain. 

"  You  are  foolish,  boy,"  said  I,  "  not  to  tell  me  what 
troubles  you,  and  let  me  call  Lewis." 

Bill's  eyes  glared  fiercely  for  a  moment,  and,  turning 
down  the  collar  of  his  jacket,  I  saw  the  blood  streaming 
from  his  neck,  while  he  uttered  through  his  shut  teeth, 
"Maus  Lewis  !'.' 

I  started  as  if  a  voice  of  thunder  had  sounded  on  my 
ear.  Papa's  and  Mr.  Barnwell's  plantations,  like  most 
others  at  the  South,  were  regulated  with  almost  military 
precision.  No  punishment  was  ever  inflicted  but  by  an  W*"" 
authorized  person,  and  if  he  overstepped  the  boundaries  $x 
of  mercy  in  his  justice,  he  was  expelled  from  his  author- 
ity. From  my  infancy,  I  had  never  seen  a  gentleman 
forget  the  deportment  of  a  gentleman  to  our  slaves.  De- 
liberation was  the  leading  trait  of  papa's  character  as  a 
master,  though  his  feelings  were  in  other  respects  ardent ; 
and  he  was  never  wearied  in  ascertaining  the  circum- 
stances of  any  case  which  required  it.  Slaves  are  not 
shut  up  in  prisons,  or  made  the  gaze  of  an  unfeeling  pub- 
lic at  the  bar,  but  a  strict  superintending  hand  is  neces- 
sary to  maintain  that  discipline,  without  which  not  even 
the  social  hearth  can  be  preserved  free  from  strife. 

I  gazed  on  the  boy  with  commiseration — he  might 
have  been  guilty  of  wrong,  but  Lewis's  was  not  the  hand 
to  chastise  him,  and  I  could  not  check  the  mental  inquiry, 
if  one  who  could  yield  to  his  passions  with  an  inferior, 
would  not  be  an  imperious  companion  with  an  equal. 

As  I  stood  thus,  I  saw  Lewis  approach ;  he  did  not 
perceive  Bill,  and  advanced  gayly.  I  presume  the  ex- 
pression of  my  face  was  unusual.  As  I  looked  from  him 
to  the  boy,  his  eyes  turned  in  the  same  direction,  an  an- 
gry flush  kindled  on  his  face,  and  for  a  moment  his  ratan 
was    lifted    as   in  threat.     Another  glance  of  my   eye 


72  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

changed  his  expression,  and  he  began  the  story  of  his 
offence. 

No  matter  what  it  was — a  charm  was  lost  to  me— 
one  of  the  golden  threads  that  had  linked  my  imagina- 
tion to  the  beautiful  and  good  was  snapped  asunder,  nor 
was  it  united  when  Lewis,  with  a  look  of  sorrow,  threw 
from  his  purse  a  pecuniary  compensation  to  the  boy. 

But  youth  is  full  of  hope  and  forgiveness  ;  Lewis  was 
sorry,  Bill  as  cheerful  as  before,  and  it  was  not  many 
days  ere  the  former  was  replaced  in  my  confidence ;  be- 
sides, he  was  about  to  leave  us  ;  and  though  he  had 
never  said  he  loved  me,  and  my  happy  temperament 
cared  not  for  the  declaration,  yet  I  felt  that  his  absence 
would  leave  a  chasm  in  our  little  circle. 

One  Sabbath  evening,  just  before  his  departure,  as  I 
was  playing  some  sacred  melodies,  he  took  up  a  song- 
book. 

"  Cornelia,  this  is  a  very  sacred  air,"  said  he,  turning 
to  a  popular  song.  "  I  am  sure  it  has  elevated  my  feel- 
ings more  than  half  the  psalm-tunes  that  people  sing 
through  their  noses.     Do  sing  it !" 

I  looked  at  him  with  surprise.  "  Cornelia,"  continued 
he,  laughing,  "  don't  look  so  solemnly.  I  suppose  you 
would  stop  the  mouth  of  the  mocking-bird  that  is  singing 
his  every-day  song  on  the  catalpa-tree,  because  he  has 
not  a  Sunday  tune ;  or  shut  up  the  flower-cups  for  dres- 
sing too  gayly  !" 

"  The  birds  and  flowers  have  had  no  revelation,  Lewis," 
said  I,  "  to  tell  them  to  reverence  the  Sabbath." 

A  look  that  I  scarcely  understood,  and  yet  could  not 
but  disapprove,  and  a  short  whistle,  were  his  answer. 

"  Just  sing  this  song  for  me,  Cornelia,"  persisted  he, 
"  and  I  will  not  ask  for  another.  I  am  sure  it  is  solemn 
enough ;  and  what  if  it  is  a  love-song,  are  we  not  com- 
manded to  love  one  another  V  and  he  looked  at  me  so 
earnestly,  that  I  blushed  and  knew  not  what  to  say,  but 
shook  my  head  disapprovingly. 

"  Then  play  me  this  overture,"  urged  he,  "  and  I  will 
give  up  the  song.  What  can  be  more  sublime  than  this 
opening  V  pointing  to  the  notes. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  73 

"  I  cannot  play  anything,  Lewis,"  said  I,  "  but  what  is 
consecrated  by  the  original  intention  of  the  composer,  or 
by  sacred  use.  What  can  you  wish  for  more  exquisite 
than  these  pieces  of  Handel  and  Haydn,  which  are  not 
only  perfect  in  themselves,  but  have  the  charm  of  holy 
associations  ;  and  what  melody  is  finer  than  the  old  Eng- 
lish psalmody  1  Here  are  the  three  tunes  mentioned  in 
the  '  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,'  which  Mr.  Duncan  loved 
to  hear  on  the  Sabbath  twilight.  Shall  I  sing  them  for 
you !" 

"  Duncan  !  for  ever  Duncan  !"  said  Lewis,  in  a  sup- 
pressed voice.  "  I  wish  you  had  never  known  that  Puri- 
tanical Yankee  ;"  but,  seeing  me  look  offended,  he  con- 
tinued, humbly,  "  You  will  not  play  what  I  wish  you  to  ?" 

"  No,  Lewis,"  I  answered,  effectually  brought  to  self- 
possession  by  his  sarcasm  on  one  so  dear  to  me. 

"  But,  Cornelia,"  said  he,  "  this  is  altogether  a  matter 
of  prejudice.     One  of  the  most  sensible  girls,  and  the 

most  exquisite  singer  in ,  does  not  hesitate  to  sing 

and  play  popular  airs  on  Sunday  evening." 

"  Tell  her,  then,  when  you  next  meet  her,"  said  I, 
rising  and  leaving  the  pianoforte,  "  that  she  does  not 
deserve  the  gift  which  God  has  given  her ;  that  the  higher 
her  voice  rises  in  the  scale  of  harmony,  the  lower  sinks 
her  sense  of  moral  and  religious  duty.  Ask  her  if  it  is 
indeed  too  much  for  one  whom  God  has  endowed  with 
such  powers,  to  devote  them  one  day  in  seven  to  Him  % 
And  never  dare,  Mr.  Barnwell,  to  use  a  name  so  sacred 
as  that  of  Charles  Duncan  disrespectfully  in  my  pres- 
ence— the  name  of  one"  (and  my  eyes  filled  with  tears) 
"  who  is  perhaps  now  looking  on  me  from  his  spiritual 
throne,  anxious  to  know  if  his  pure  example  sustains  me 
in  temptation." 

It  is  rarely  that  a  girl  of  sixteen  reproves  seriously. 
A  pretty  sullenness,  a  pettish  retort,  or  a  gay  badinage 
are  her  weapons  ;  but  when  the  light  of  a  just  indigna- 
tion does  dart  from  a  youthful  eye,  when  with  an  eleva- 
ted form,  a  kindling  glance,  a  crimson  cheek,  and  a  voice 
half  tremulous,  half  authoritative,  she  denounces  error} 
sages  may  bend  before  her. 

G 


74  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

Lewis  felt  it  was  no  longer  safe  to  trifle  ;  he  knew,  as 
most  men  do,  when  a  woman  is  sincere,  and,  bidding  me 
good-night,  he  retired. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  DEPARTURE. 

"  Poetry  and  song, 
Music  and  books  led  the  glad  hours  along ; 
Worlds  of  the  vision'd  minstrel,  fancy,  wove 
Tales  of  old  time,  of  chivalry,  and  love  ; 
Or  converse  calm,  or  wit-shafts  sprinkled  round, 
Like  beams  from  gems,  too  light  and  fine  to  wound  ; 
With  spirits  sparkling  as  the  morning's  sun, 
Light  as  the  dancing  wave  he  smiles  upon, 
Like  his  own  course — alas  !  too  soon  to  know 
Bright  suns  may  set  in  storms,  and  gay  hearts  sink  in  wo." 

J.  R.  Drake. 

"  How  happy  is  he  bom  and  taught, 
Who  serveth  not  another's  will  ; 
Whose  armour  is  his  honest  thought, 
And  simple  truth  his  utmost  skill ! 
Whose  passions  not  his  masters  are." 

Sir  H.  Wotton. 

"  I  have  come  to  bid  you  good-by,"  said  Lewis,  the 
second  morning  after  our  stormy  interview,  as,  pushing 
aside  the  clustering  vines  at  the  window  with  his  riding- 
whip,  he  lightly  tapped  my  shoulder.     "  Am  I  forgiven !" 

It  is  a  happy  part  of  my  temperament  to  forget  offen- 
ces, and  the  severest  punishment  ever  inflicted  on  me 
for  being  angry  at  all,  is  to  feel,  after  the  first  irritability 
is  over,  the  necessity  of  studying  the  curve  of  a  courtesy, 
or  the  precise  point  to  which  a  finger  must  be  extended 
in  shaking  hands.  I  could  never  be  drilled  into  these 
calculations.  I  have  had  preferences,  warm  ones  too  ; 
but  ice  upon  ice  in  the  manners  of  others  has  been  neces- 
sary, before  my  innate  love  of  human  beings,  as  breth- 
ren, could  be  chilled.     Old  as  I  am,  I  am  a  novice  still 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  75 

in  this.  Nor  am  I  sorry ;  for  by  this  token  I  feel  that 
God  has  given  me  a  heart  to  love  his  creatures. 

Lewis  was  the  last  person  in  the  world  against  whom 
I  could  have  harboured  anger ;  and,  as  he  inserted  his 
handsome  face  among  the  leaves,  glowing  with  exercise, 
and  kindling  with  excited  sensibility  and  doubt  unusual 
to  him,  and  which  the  little  bravado  of  his  manner  could 
not  conceal,  he  saw  at  once,  by  my  smile,  that  he  was 
forgiven. 

"  I  am  afraid  to  come  in  till  you  bid  me,"  said  he,  put- 
ting his  hand  before  his  face  boyishly. 

His  eyes  were  not  so  much  hidden  as  to  conceal  my 
extended  hand,  which  he  seized,  and,  leaping  through 
the  window,  in  a  moment  was  surrounded  by  our  little 
ones,  who  loaded  with  caresses  the  absentee  of  two  days. 

No  shade  was  left  on  any  brow.  Who  has  not  felt 
the  electric  magic  of  a  smile  ?  Delicious  good-humour  ! 
Bright  gift  from  Him  who  giveth  sunshine  and  flowers — 
blessed  fireside  partner — brightest  soother  of  care — most 
delicate  graee  of  youth — fair  lingerer  by  the  side  of  se- 
rene old  age — I  dedicate  myself  to  thee  !  What  though 
the  wrinkle  gathers  on  my  brow,  and  the  chestnut  curls 
of  youth  are  fading  to  the  gray  of  gathered  years,  give 
me  but  the  reflected  lustre  of  thy  smile,  and  I  shall 
charm  even  yet  the  eyes  that  love  me ! 

Lewis  lingered ;  he  had  been  successful  in  hunting, 
and  he  must  stay  to  taste  Maum  Nell's  cookery  of  the 
venison  he  brought  us  ;  Robert  had  some  new  fishing- 
tackle  from  town,  and  Lewis  must  certainly  wait  to  test 
it ;  papa  was  trimming  fruit-trees,  and  Lewis  had  lately 
seen  his  father's  mode,  and  must  help  him  ;  John  was  to 
get  his  opinion  of  a  new  saddle  for  his  mare  Jenny  ;  and, 
lest  all  these  things  should  be  insufficient  to  fill  his  time, 
Lewis  drew  from  his  pocket  the  newly-published  poem 
of  "  The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  and  offered  to  read  it  to 
mamma  and  me.  He  was  a  glorious  reader,  and  his 
eyes  helped  him  on  with  their  full  expression.  "  The 
longest  summer's  day  would  have  seemed  too  much  in 
haste,"  while,  with  a  perfecit  imbodying  of  the  author's 
sentiments  in  his  voice  and  looks,  he  read  to  us  this  del- 


76  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

icate  inspiration ;  how  then  must  our  winter  daylight 
have  flown !  Yet,  let  the  truth  be  confessed,  neither 
Malcolm  Graeme  nor  Ellen  Douglas  prevented  our  dis- 
cussing the  venison  at  dinner,  nor  our  enjoying  a  dance 
after  supper,  for  we  possessed  the  usual  plantation  lux- 
ury of  a  fiddler.  I  do  not  feel  bound  to  say  how  many 
tunes  Diggory  played,  nor  how  well  a  few  visits  to  town 
had  initiated  his  quick  eye  and  ear  into  the  tunes  and 
figures  of  some  newly-introduced  cotillons.  It  is  amu- 
sing to  observe  how  soon  a  pretty  air  is  appropriated,  in 
Charleston,  by  the  negroes,  by  their  quick  musical  organs. 
You  hear  the  mason's  apprentice  whistle  it  as  he  handles 
his  trowel,  the  chimney-sweep  sings  it  between  his  tech- 
nical cry,  the  nurse  warbles  it  forth  to  her  charge,  and, 
almost  before  you  know  it  yourself,  you  hear  it  trilling 
from  the  lips  of  your  dressing-maid. 

Mamma  was  dragged  from  her  seat  like  a  martyr  by 
one  of  the  boys,  and  I,  as  usual,  was  Lewis's  partner. 
Diggory's  air  of  importance  was  exceedingly  ludicrous  ; 
his  whole  identity  seemed  changed  by  the  stroke  of  his 
fiddle.  Poor  mamma  had  never  been  much  of  a  dancer  ; 
all  her  early  associations  were  connected  with  the  min- 
uet and  contra-dance ;  and  when  Diggory  called  out, 
with  the  voice  of  a  Stentor, 

"  Fore  and  back  two,  ole  missis — ladies  change — 
turn  you  partiner  at  de  corner — shasha  all  round,"  she 
was  nearly  beside  herself;  while  Diggory,  sometimes 
stopping  short  and  rolling  up  his  white  eyes,  exclaimed, 
"  My  lor  !  my  ole  missis  spile  eberyting  V 

Diggory,  alas !  in  his  musical  science  and  dancing 
oratory  was  but  a  specimen  of  our  city  ball-room  per- 
formers. Unacquainted  with  the  science  of  music,  though 
gifted  with  decided  natural  powers,  they  play  antics  with 
the  "  high  heaven  of  sound,"  while  sawing  violins,  harsh 
clarinets,  jingling  tambarines,  crashing  triangles,  with 
the  occasional  climax  of  a  base  drum,  make  up  in  quan- 
tity what  is  deficient  in  quality ;  and  then,  overtopping 
even  that  climax,  comes  the  shout  of  a  voice  with  the 
negro  dialect,  calling  out  the  figures,  which,  to  a  stran- 
ger, makes  "  confusion  worse  confounded."     The  South 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  77 

is  ■certainly  far,  far  behind  the  civilized  world  in  music 
of  this  character,  and  there  seems  little  hope  of  a  rem- 
edy. 

But,  fortunately,  youth  is  not  critical  anywhere,  and 
we  were  not  critical  at  Roseland.  Diggory's  fiddle,  like 
the  horn  of  Oberon,  was  a  potent  spell  to  set  us  in  mo- 
tion ;  and  as  for  his  harmony,  we  knew  not  the  folly  of 
being  too  wise,  nor  cared  for  the  luxurious  adaptation  to 
modulated  sound,  gliding 

"  Softly  sweet  in  Lydian  measure." 

Our  dancing  was  all  spring  and  impulse,  like  the  step 
of  childhood  when  it  chases  butterflies  to  the  piping  of 
fresh  winds. 

"  I  shall  leave  the  Elms  to-morrow,"  said  Lewis  in  a 
low  tone  to  me,  when  we  had  "  tired  each  other  down." 
"  Get  your  cloak  and  walk  with  me  in  the  piazza ;  do, 
Cornelia." 

I  appealed  to  mamma,  who  consented,  inserting  an- 
other pin  in  my  cloak,  and  wondering  that  we  could  leave 
the  bright  lightwood  blaze  on  the  hearth  for  the  cold 
moonlight.  She  was  sure  papa  and  herself  would  not 
be  such  fools. 

The  night  was  beautiful,  and  the  waning  moon  re- 
vealed the  "  lesser  glories."  They  brought  Duncan  to 
my  thoughts,  and  my  lips  spake  from  the  fulness  of  my 
heart. 

"  I  am  not  surprised,  Lewis,"  I  said,  "  that  the  ancients 
should  have  imbodied  the  stars  in  forms  of  life.  I  could 
weave  an  image  of  Charles  Duncan  with  every  constella- 
tion. The  diamond  which  helps  to  form  Delphinus  re- 
minds me  of  his  beautifully-proportioned  character;  Sa- 
gitta  of  his  thoughts,  which  flew  like  bright  arrows  to 
every  mind ;  the  Crux  of  the  elevated  faith  which  lay 
along  and  illuminated  his  path,  like  that  on  the  Galaxy ; 
and  Corona  of  the  glowing  crown  which  ought  in  life  and 
in  death  to  encircle  his  noble  brow." 

An  impatient  motion  from  Lewis  checked  me,  and  I 
looked  at  him  for  his  meaning. 

"  I  did  not  come  to  prate  about  the  stars,  Miss  Wil- 
G  2 


78  RECOLLECTIONS   OF    A 

ton,"  said  he,  bitterly.  "  I  must  soon  leave  you,  and 
they  will  be  all  darkness  to  me  ;  but  you,"  continued  he, 
sarcastically,  "  will  be  comforted  in  their  beams,  for 
Charles  Duncan  is  their  hero." 

"  Unkind  Lewis,"  said  I ;  but,  wishing  to  sooth  him,  I 
added,  "  Suppose  I  make  you  the  head  of  my  system  ; 
'  there  is  a  glory  of  the  sun1  as  well  as  of  the  moon  and 
stars." 

"  I  am  not  in  the  mood  for  trifling,  Cornelia,"  inter- 
rupted he,  impetuously.  "  I  asked  for  a  few  moments' 
intercourse  with  you,  to  lay  before  you  the  collected  love 
of  my  early  years.  I  know  we  are  young,  but  I  am  go- 
ing from  you.  You  will  visit  Charleston,  and  a  thou- 
sand fools  will  linger  near  you,  and  catch  your  smile,  and 
listen  to  your  voice,  while  I  am  distant  and  unremem- 
bered.  I  wished  to  tell  you,  that  from  the  first  moment 
of  our  childish  frolics  to  the  present  time,  you  have  been 
my  heart's  choice  ;  and  to  offer  you  that  heart  in  its  truest 
devotion ;  but  no  ;  your  form  is  near  me,  it  is  true ;  but, 
though  you  know  that  this  is  your  last  interview  with  me 
for  months,  perhaps  for  ever,  you  gaze  on  the  stars  and 
sigh  for  Charles  Duncan." 

I  was  puzzled  for  a  reply  ;  half  frightened  with  the 
abruptness  of  the  declaration,  and  the  unreasonableness 
of  his  views,  I  knew  not  what  to  say,  and  fairly  laughed 
outright.  He  became  furious ;  called  me  coquettish, 
heartless,  and  many  names  that  love  should  not  even 
know  how  to  spell. 

"  What  do  you  require  of  me,  Lewis  V  said  I,  anx- 
iously. 

"  Your  whole  soul,"  was  his  answer.  "  My  day- 
thought  and  night-dream  will  be  only  of  you,  and  I  de- 
mand the  same  returns.  I  will  not  accept  a  love  doled 
out  of  the  heart's  treasury  like  gold  from  the  purse  of  the 
miser.  True  affection  knows  no  meum  and  tuwn  ;  it  is 
poured  forth  like  a  flood  from  two  souls,  and  those  two 
become  one.  But  I  am  a  fool  to  frighten  you  with  my 
vehemence.  I  will  be  more  gentle.  I  will  sue  you  as 
the  south  wind  courts  the  flowers.  I  will  be  as  gentle 
as  Charles  Duncan,  if  you  will  only  promise  to  keep 
your  heart  until  my  return,  if  you  do  not  give  it  to  me." 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  79 

"  You  have  done  well  for  me,  Lewis,"  said  I,  "  to  re- 
peat that  name  ;  it  is  a  talisman.  Mr.  Duncan,  who 
studied  my  temperament,  often  warned  me  never  to  con- 
nect myself  either  in  friendship  or  love  with  one  who 
knew  not  self-control.  Stormy  passions  terrify  me.  Be- 
sides, I  do  not  deserve  the  language  you  have  used  to 
me.  I  love  Charles  Duncan  as  I  love  my  own  brothers 
— no  farther." 

"  But  he  has  biased  you,"  said  Lewis,  moodily ;  "  you 
confess  it ;"  and  he  drew  his  arm  away  from  mine  rudely. 

"  He  never  breathed  your  name  disrespectfully,"  an- 
swered I,  warmly ;  "  he  was  too  high-souled  for  that." 

"  If  it  is  true,  then,  that  you  do  not  love  Charles  Dun- 
can," said  he,  throwing  himself  on  his  knees  before  me, 
his  eyes  flashing  with  emotion,  his  teeth  shut,  and  his 
breast  heaving,  "  swear  to  me  that  you  will  enter  into  no 
engagement  with  him  or  others  until  my  return.  You 
will  never  break  a  vow.  Swear  it  to  me,  in  mercy,  Cor- 
nelia." 

"  I  will  not  make  such  a  vow,"  said  I,  resolutely,  with- 
drawing the  hands  he  was  clasping  in  his  ;  "  my  heart  is 
not  to  be  taken  by  storm ;  and  as  for  swearing,  I  have 
been  taught  by  too  gentle  a  master." 

"  Curse  him !  curse  him  !"  muttered  Lewis,  with  the 
bitter  gush  of  overwrought  passion.  I  started  from  his 
side  with  a  scream  of  terror,  ran  though  the  piazza  as  if 
pursued  by  a  fiend,  burst  open  the  door,  and  threw  my- 
self weeping  into  mamma's  arms.  The  next  day  I 
heard  that  Lewis  was  gone. 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  XL 


JACQUE  S    FUNERAL. 


"  The  earliest  summon'd,  and  the  longest  spared, 
Are  here  deposited,  with  tribute  paid 
Various  ;  but  unto  each  some  tribute  paid/' 

Wordsworth's  Excursion. 

Let  me  pause  to  bestow  a  parting  notice  on  one  who 
is  still  associated  with  the  happiest  and  tenderest  scenes 
of  my  youth.  Jacque's  labours,  as  is  customary  with 
aged  slaves,  had  been  gradually  suspended.  He  still 
performed  a  few  voluntary  duties,  and  might  be  seen  on 
sunshiny  days  propping  a  failing  fence,  clearing  an  en- 
cumbered hedge,  drying  nets,  making  baskets  of  rushes 
or  oak,  attending  to  his  pigs  and  poultry,  or,  with  a  char- 
acteristic eye  to  his  master's  interests,  tottering  to  the 
fields,  and  shaking  his  head  if  he  detected  any  symptom 
of  waste.  Still  retaining  a  feeling  of  authority,  he  was 
angered  by  idleness ;  even  the  young  negroes,  whose 
greatest  toil  was  to  turn  somersets,  and  dance  to  their 
own  whistling,  tried  to  look  busy  or  grave  when  his  eye 
was  on  them,  long  after  his  corporeal  and  mental  powers 
had  ceased  their  activity.  But  the  time  drew  near  when 
old  Jacque  must  die.  It  was  in  vain  that  mamma  gave 
him  her  personal  attendance,  sent  him  daily  luxuries, 
and  anticipated  his  wants  with  almost  filial  tenderness  ; 
the  golden  cord  of  his  life  was  loosened,  and  we  were 
told  one  morning  that  he  had  died,  breathing  a  prayer  for 
his  master's  family. 

Mamma  had  asked  him.  many  years  before,  if  there 
was  anything  she  could  do  for  his  comfort. 

,:  Tank  you  much,  my  missis,"  he  answered  ;  "  Jacque 
hab  everyting  him  want  in  dis  world,  'cept  he  shroud, 
praise  God." 

Mamma  gave  him  money,   and  he    expended    it  on 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  81 

grave-clothes.  He  had  taken  them  out  and  aired  them 
from  year  to  year  ;  now  they  were  indeed  to  enfold  his 
venerable  remains  ;  and  we  were  a  mourning  family  ; 
true,  we  were  not  clad  in  weeds,  but  a  tender  tie  had 
been  riven,  and  it  was  riven  with  tears.  None  but  those 
who  live  under  our  peculiar  institutions  can  imagine  the 
strong  bond  existing  between  faithful  servants  and  the 
families  with  whom  they  are  connected. 

I  was  informed  by  Maum  Nanny,  Jacque's  sister,  that 
he  had  left  something  for  me  in  the  sill  of  his  chest  as 
his  dying  bequest.  An  old  pocketbook  was  found  there, 
which  I  opened,  and  discovered  several  bills  of  continen- 
tal money  carefully  wrapped  in  paper.* 

Plantation  negroes  prefer  to  bury  their  dead  at  night 
or  before  sunrise.  Neighbouring  plantations  are  notified, 
and  all  who  can  obtain  tickets  from  overseers  attend. 
A  spot  of  ground  is  allotted  for  their  burial-place,  and 
simple  monuments  of  affection  may  usually  be  found  in 
them.  ,  The  ceremony  of  interment  is  commonly  per- 
formed by  a  class-leader,  a  pious  coloured  man,  who  is 
the  spiritual  teacher  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  prepares 
his  brethren  by  an  examination  into  their  belief,  and  a 
watch  over  their  conduct  and  feelings,  for  communion. 

The  "  pomp  and  circumstance"  of  the  burial,  for  it  is 
not  less  among  slaves,  in  proportion,  than  in  palaces,  de- 
layed the  funeral  until  midnight.  As  the  visiters  assem- 
bled, they  crowded  the  hut  of  the  deceased,  and  when 
that  was  full,  stood  around  the  entrance  near  the  coffin. 
At  short  intervals  some  among  the  group  commenced  a 
hymn,  in  which  all  joined  ;  refreshments  were  then  dec- 
orously distributed. f 

The  death  of  Jacque  was  particularly  affecting  to  me, 


*  It  may  scarcely  be  necessary  to  repeat  that  this  incident  and 
others  in  the  Southren  Matron,  like  those  in  the  Northern  House- 
keeper, are  founded  in  truth. 

t  This  solemnity  is  usually  styled  by  the  negroes  "  a  setting  up." 
"When  a  funeral  occurs  at  too  great  a  distance  from  the  city  to  pro- 
cure tea,  coffee,  &c,  or  the  owners  do  not  provide  them,  the  body  is 
interred,  and  the  friends  afterward  celebrate  what  is  called  a  "  false 
burying,"  where  religious  ceremonies  are  performed,  and  refresh- 
ments provided. 


82  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

for  I  had  been  his  especial  favourite.  I  went  with  the 
boys  to  see  him  after  his  decease  ;  and  though  I  did  not 
feel  the  faintness  which  came  over  me  at  witnessing  the 
remains  of  grandmamma,  yet  I  had  that  dizzy  sensation 
which  youth  often  experiences  at  the  immense  difference 
between  a  bright  intellectual  glance  and  the  glazed  eye 
or  moveless  lid,  between  the  warm  touch  of  affection 
and  the  stiff,  cold  hand  that  returns  no  pressure. 

The  night  of  his  interment  was  mild,  and  I  sat  at  my 
window  by  the  starlight,  watching  the  approach  of  the 
negroes  as  they  crossed  the  fields  or  came  through  the 
avenue.  Torches  were  seen  glowing  in  the  range  of 
whitewashed  huts,  and  a  bush-light*  was  flaming  near 
Jacque's  habitation,  which  was  so  brilliant  that  I  per- 
ceived the  coffin  and  the  groups  gathering  round  it ; 
while  occasionally  strains  of  their  hymn  came  floating 
with  a  softened  cadence  on  the  breeze.  The  procession 
was  formed ;  six  women,  dressed  in  white,  preceded  the 
coffin,  and  the  pall-bearers,  bearing  torches,  were  on  each 
side.  Their  path  lay  near  the  house,  and  nothing  was 
to  be  heard  but  an  occasional  ejaculation  of  "  Lord 
Jesus  !"  "  He  knows  !"  "  God  have  mercy  !"  "  His  will 
be  done  i" 

The  burial-place  was  near  the  river,  and  a  huge  oak 
threw  its  arms  over  it  as  if  protecting  the  dwelling  of  the 
dead.  I  could  see  them  as  they  wound  down  the  slope 
and  stood  in  a  circle  round  the  grave,  distance  still  soft- 
ening their  sacred  song.  It  was  one  which  I  had  heard 
from  infancy  in  their  devotional  exercises,  but  never  had 
it  touched  my  feelings  as  now,  when  it  rose  over  poor 
Jacque's  last  dwelling-place.  The  leader  spoke  ;  at 
first  his  voice  was  low,  then  rising  to  that  declamatory 
shout  which  often  carries  the  feelings  captive,  it  reached 
me  where  I  sat.  He  described  the  tomb  of  Lazarus, 
and  said  that  Jesus  wept,  and  that  they  might  weep,  for 
a  good  brother  was  gone,  and  there  was  no  Jesus  by  his 
grave  to  bring  him  back  ;  he  dwelt  on  the  character  of 
Jacque,  and  on  their  duty  in  imitating  his  example  ;   told 

*  A  fire  of  light  wood  kindled  on  a  small  mound  of  earth. 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  83 

them  to  be  grateful  for  their  religious  blessings,  for,  while 
the  heathen  were  in  darkness,  a  great  light  had  shone 
upon  them ;  dwelt  long  on  their  sinfulness  and  God's 
anger,  and  taxed  his  imagination  to  paint  the  torments  of 
hell  unless  they  repented  and  accepted  the  Gospel. 

Familiarity  with  his  dialect  prevented  with  me  all  that 
might  have  been  ludicrous  to  a  stranger.  He  prayed  for 
his  master  and  mistress,  that  God  might  reward  them  for 
all  their  goodness  to  brother  Jacque.  "  Oh  Lord  Jesus," 
he  cried,  "  bless  my  young  maussas.  Gie  'em  good 
counsel,  and  let  'em  drink  of  de  water  of  life,  and  bless 
my  young  missis ;  may  she  know  de  Lord  dat  bought  her, 
and  may  she  bring  her  alabaster  box  of  ointment  and 
pour  it  out  for  the  love  of  her  maussa,  Christ." 

As  these  words  reached  me,  I  could  not  restrain  my 

tears ;  I  laid  my  head  on  the  window-sill  and  sobbed 

aloud.     Another  hymn  was  sung.     The  words  of  Watts, 

the  sweet  singer  of  the  Christian  Israel,  whose  tender 

notes  fall  like  gentle  dew  on  the  heart  of  monarch  and 

slave,    rose    in   the    quiet   midnight   under   that   starry 

heaven. 

"  Why  do  we  mourn  departing  friends, 
Or  shake  at  death's  alarms '( 
'Tis  but  the  -voice  that  Jesus  sends 
To  call  them  to  his  arms." 

As  they  ceased,  the  waving  lights  passed  away.  I  was 
again  alone  with  night  in  its  silent  beauty.  I  threw 
myself  on  my  bed,  the  sounds  still  vibrating  on  my 
memory  ;  and,  as  my  eyes  closed  in  sleep,,  a  vision  of  the 
mansion  whither  the  spirit  of  Jacque  had  risen  came  be- 
fore me,  and  I  heard  cherub  voices  welcome  him  to  his 
heavenly  home. 

A  plain  marble  slab  may  be  seen  at  Roseland,  on 
which  is  inscribed, 

SACRED 

To  the  memory  of 

JACQUE, 

a  faithful  slave. 

His  master  bears  this  testimony  to  his  worth.* 

*  A  similar  monument  is  on  a  plantation  a  few  miles  from  Charles- 
ton.— See  note  at  end  of  the  volume. 


84  RECOLLECTIONS  OF   A 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  COUNTRY  CHURCH. 

"  Encincture  small, 
But  infinite  in  grasp  of  joy  and  wo ! 
Hopes,  fears,  in  never-ending  ebb  and  flow — 
The  spousal  trembling— and  the  '  dust  to  dust'— 
The  prayers — the  contrite  struggle — and  the  trust 
That  to  the  Almighty  Father  looks  through  all !" 

Wordsworth. 

One  would  have  thought,  by  the  lathering  and  scrub- 
bing on  Sunday  mornings  at  Roseland,  that  we  were  la- 
bourers through  the  week,  and  had  but  this  holyday. 
All  the  little  ones  came  forth  from  their  ablutions  with 
wry  faces  and  blue  noses,  looking  like  anything  rather 
than  tranquil  young  Christians  ;  and  mamma  had  that  stiff 
air  which  a  determination  to  keep  new  clothes  for  Sun- 
day is  apt  to  produce.  She  was  frequently  belated,  for 
the  church  was  eight  miles  distant,  and  it  really  was  an 
effort  to  get  children,  servants,  horses  and  carriages 
ready  for  such  a  drive.  We  suffered  a  country  inconve- 
nience with  regard  to  clothes.  Mamma's  new  bonnet, 
on  its  arrival  from  the  city,  was  liable  to  contract,  and 
stand  upon  the  top  of  her  head  like  a  funnel ;  or  little 
Ben,  our  hero  of  six  years,  was  squeezed  into  a  new 
jacket,  every  button  of  which  remonstrated ;  or  papa's 
boots  would  give  an  unaccountable  pinch  on  his  corns, 
though  the  pattern  sent  to  town  was  of  ample  dimensions. 
But  these  incidents  were  not  always  occurring.  Often 
did  mamma's  bonnet  fit,  and  Ben's  little  fat  figure  roll  on 
in  easy  rotundity,  and  papa's  face  beam  out  a  co-rnless 
smile,  and  the  little  race  of  Wiltons,  with  their  plump, 
mottled  bare  arms  and  necks,  and  curling  hair,  and  un- 
fretted  cleanliness,  come  tottling  down  from  their  baths 
the  very  pictures  of  happy  childhood ;  while  the  babe, 
Patsey,  looked  redolent  of  smiles,  spite  of  the  pink  satin 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  85 

hat  and  the  three  rows  of  lace  which  lay  with  its  check- 
ered shade  on  her  soft  brow,  confining  her  one  thin  lock 
of  silky  brown  hair,  and  spite  of  her  satin-lined  cloak 
fettering  her  dimpled  feet  as  they  played  a  tattoo  against 
her  nurse's  ribs. 

Mamma,  when  she  could  find  time,  madame,  when  she 
could  find  inclination,  Mr.  Duncan  and  I  or  the  other 
children,  usually  occupied  the  carriage ;  my  brothers 
rode  their  own  horses,  while  papa  preferred  a  little  bug- 
gie,  in  which  he  could  cross  and  reconnoitre  two  or  three 
fields  on  his  way. 

Many  of  these  drives  Mr.  Duncan  and  I  had  taken 
alone.  He  told  me  that  not  on  one  mountain  only  is 
God  worshipped  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  but  that  the  woods 
and  skies  are  a  temple,  in  which,  as  in  earthly  fanes,  we 
may  commune  with  the  Deity,  and  I  soon  realized  this 
truth.  Nature  seemed  more  still  on  the  Sabbath  than  at 
other  times  in  our  lone  and  lofty  forests  ;  the  birds 
checked  their  chattering  joy,  and  poured  out  hymns  of 
praise  ;  the  woods  waved  in  calmer  reverence,  and  there 
was  a  hush  of  solemnity  in  the  floating  clouds,  as  they 
canopied  the  throne  of  the  Invisible. 

Nor  were  these  emotions  disturbed  by  the  view  of  our 
country  church.  It  rose  in  simple  architecture,  discov- 
ered by  its  white  walls  amid  the  clustering  green ;  and 
though  it  was  sometimes  thought  that  a  sufficient  care 
was  not  taken  to  prune  the  wild  growth  around  it,  partic- 
ularly in  the  graveyard,  where  affection  could  scarcely 
read  the  record  of  its  love,  yet  the  wildness  of  the  spot 
seemed  to  me  to  suit  the  mood  of  revery  which  falls  on 
the  thoughtful  rambler  amid  forest  graves.  The  burial- 
place  was  not  large,  for  most  plantations  have  their  own  ; 
but  it  was  capacious  enough  to  tell  the  usual  tale  of  in- 
fancy withered  in  its  early  bud,  of  manhood  cut  down  in 
its  prime,  and  of  old  age  seeking  its  last  repose.  The 
birds,  scarcely  restrained  by  winter,  poured  out  their  songs 
over  the  dead  ;  the  gray  moss  hung  floating  from  the  fall- 
ing walls  ;  rose-bushes,  unchecked  and  untrained,  waved 
in  the  winds  ;  and  a  tame  deer,  which  no  one  claimed,  re- 
sorted thither,  loving  the  Sabbath  communion  of  human 
H 


Od  RECOLLECTIONS    OP   A 

beings.  It  was  a  simple  scene,  and  where  was  its 
charm  1  I  have  heard  that  those  who  have  crossed  the 
ocean,  and  seen  the  tombs  of  buried  intellect  in  England's 
great  metropolis,  and  gazed  on  the  ruins  of  fallen  great- 
ness in  luxurious  Italy,  and  pondered  on  the  Eastern 
Pyramids  towering  over  a  handful  of  dust,  in  the  midst 
of  the  lofty  speculations  incident  in  such  scenes,  would 
revert  to  the  place  of  their  early  worship,  and  the  thought 
of  it  would  come  like  the  gushing  of  a  cool  stream  over 
the  soul.  What  is  this  charm  ?  Answer,  simple,  un- 
taught Nature,  for  the  voice  can  only  rise  from  thee  ! 

But,  with  all  this  sensibility  to  external  objects,  I  had 
listened  to  the  ritual  and  preaching  of  this  church  almost 
untouched ;  for  our  minister,  and  may  God  forgive  him, 
was  cold  himself,  unkindled  with  that  sense  of  his  high 
vocation  which  lends  ardour  to  prayer  and  power  to  ex- 
hortation. How  could  his  audience  feel  zeal  in  services 
where  they  saw  no  heart  1  It  is  praise  to  them  that  they 
performed  their  duty.  How  could  he  expect  the  soul  to 
hover  on  the  lips  of  his  hearers  when  reading  a  prayer 
in  a  style  which  a  schoolboy  would  be  corrected  for 
using  1 

And  can  a  clergyman,  indeed,  become  cold  under  an  of- 
fice of  mediation  between  God  and  man  1  Can  he  enter 
the  sacred  desk  unprepared,  stammering,  and  absent, 
who  has  to  plead  a  cause  high  as  heaven,  wide  as  eter- 
nity ?  I  know  not  but  I  might,  as  a  fallible  being,  become 
chilled  by  repetition  ;  but  I  feel  that,  were  I  a  man  placed 
under  the  wide  responsibility  of  guiding  souls,  and  choos- 
ing that  sacred  position  in  society,  I  would  cultivate 
every  power ;  even  external  attractions  should  not  be  be- 
yond my  care ;  I  would  make  pure  eloquence  my  study, 
that  the  voice  God  gave  me  might  call  his  children  to 
know  him ;  I  would  cultivate  personal  purity  and  grace, 
that  men  might  be  attracted  by  God's  image ;  I  would 
plead  with  them  as  a  hungry  man  pleads  for  nourishment, 
and  pray  with  them  as  myself  expecting  to  share  their 
doom.  I  would  be  ingenious  in  plans  to  draw  them  to 
heaven. 

Our  pastor  was  one  of  whom  it  is  said,  Oh,  he  is  not  a 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  87 

fine  preacher,  but  he  is  a  good  man !  Perverted  term — 
when  given  to  one  dragging  a  paralyzed  mind.  The  at- 
mosphere of  religion  is  materially  affected  by  these 
sleepy  heirs  of  ten  talents,  who  should  be  working  up  the 
whole  to  all  possible  perfection.  Yet  when,  on  opening 
his  sermon,  our  pastor  would  sometimes  find  a  leaf  of  his 
well-tumbled  discourse  missing ;  when  he  even  mistook 
the  order  of  services  ;  when  an  ill-wjitten  word  was 
slurred  over  with  a  cough,  it  was  still  said,  "  Our  minister 
means  well,  he  is  only  careless."  Careless  !  a  minister 
of  the  gospel  careless  !  Then  may  Gabriel  be  careless, 
as  he  stands  with  veiled  face  to  receive  the  orders  of  his 
king. 

Alas  for  our  poor  little  church.  Prayer  was  offered 
up  with  cold  monotony.  Our  singing  was  reduced  to  the 
fine  squeak  of  an  old  lady,  who  would  utterly  have  failed 
but  for  the  aid  of  a  few  ancient  negroes,  whose  ear  was 
more  true  than  hers.  The  number  of  gentlemen  around 
the  church  until  the  commencement  of  the  sermon  was 
greater  than  the  occupants  of  the  pews  within,  and  the 
subjects  of  conversation  were  of  the  most  worldly  nature. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  old  Mr.  Guildstreet  always  kept  his 
best  joke  for  the  last,  and  its  effects  were  seen  on  the 
partially-composed  features  of  the  gentlemen  as  they  en- 
tered, just  before  the  giving  out  of  the  text.  John  once 
asked  a  searching  question — "  Papa,  are  the  church  pray- 
ers only  made  for  ladies  and  children  V 

"  Oh,  no,  my  son,"  said  papa,  and  I  saw  a  reverential 
shade  of  thought  steal  over  his  brow  ;  "  men  feel  the  need 
of  prayer." 

There  was  probably  more  excuse  for  these  worldly 
discussions  at  our  country  church  than  elsewhere.  Good 
friends  were  parted  for  a  long  summer,  and  amid  winter 
business  met  but  seldom.  Tying  their  horses  under  a 
sheltering  tree,  they  began  with  the  compliments  of  the 
day  ;  then  followed  an  inevitable  comparison  of  the  state 
of  crops,  then  a  discussion  of  public  news,  and  he  was 
the  most  sought,  who  had  seen  the  last  newspaper  ;  again 
the  great  agricultural  interests  of  the  country  were  brought 
forward,  until  every  man  approached  nearer  his  neigh- 


88  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

hour's  button,  when  the  last  strain  of  the  hymn  reminded 
them  that  something  else  was  going  on,  and  they  entered 
with  whispering  answers  or  remarks  almost  on  the  floor 
of  God's  temple.  The  deportment  of  the  ladies  was 
generally  different.  They  preserved  a  serious  air  on  en- 
tering church  and  throughout  the  service.  After  the  bles- 
sing was  pronounced  began  their  exchange.  I  do  not  speak 
of  this  in  blame.  It  is  a  part  of  the  social  intercourse 
of  Southern  life,  necessarily  arising  from  our  widely-sep- 
arated estates ;  it  preserves  us  from  coldness,  and  I  am 
glad  of  an  opportunity  of  stating  this,  as  strangers  have 
frequently  complained  of  our  habit  of  conversing  after 
church.  Ladies  from  the  Northern  States  bow  almost 
with  solemnity  to  a  near  neighbour,  and  retire,  while 
Southern  ones,  with  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand,  testify 
their  pleasure  at  the  interview.  I  have  sometimes  said 
to  myself  in  a  New-England  church,  Can  these  Chris- 
tians love  one  another  1  So  different  are  the  impressions 
produced  on  the  two  parties,  that  we  here  think  it  cold- 
hearted  not  to  greet  each  other  with  expressions  of  cor- 
dial interest. 

I  cannot  well  extend  the  same  excuse  to  the  gentlemen, 
who  encroached,  at  the  period  of  which  I  am  speaking,  on 
the  short  hour  of  religious  service  ;  they  may  meet  often 
or  earlier;  and  even  when  the  pressure  of  pecuniary  or 
political  interests  calls  for  communication  on  the  Sabbath, 
let  them  pause  when  those  services  commence,  which,  if 
worth  anything  at  all,  are  worth  ten  minutes  of  prepara- 
tory prayer. 

Such  was  our  country  church;  but  a  brighter  chapter 
remains  to  be  unfolded  ;  prayers  soon  arose,  on  which  the 
young  wing  of  devotion  poised  itself  for  heaven  ;  hymns, 
where  the  music  of  the  heart  and  voice  struggled  in  har- 
mony ;  and  exhortations,  which,  while  they  warned  us  of 
the  consequences  of  neglect,  taught  us  our  glorious  des- 
tination, and  bade  us  faithfully  prepare  for  it. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    STRANGER. 

"  Let  not  those 
Whose  homes  are  bright  with  sunshine  and  with  love, 
Put  on  the  insolence  of  happiness, 
Glorying  in  their  proud  lot ;  a  lonely  hour 
Is  on  its  way  to  each,  to  all." 

Mrs.  Hemans'  Siege  of  Valencia 

In  January  I  was  to  leave  my  country  home  for  the  city  j 
my  beautiful  home,  which  rose  in  solitude  like  a  white 
bird  amid  the  green  forests.  Papa  was  at  infinite  pains 
to  justify  the  name  of  Roseland.  It  was  his  delight  to 
bring  strangers  from  the  town  to  visit  us  ;  and,  without 
describing  the  place,  drive  them  through  the  pine  woods  ; 
then  enter  the  avenue  where  the  Cherokee  hedge  shut 
out  the  view  ;  then,  by  a  sudden  turn,  bring  Roseland  be- 
~f<5TB  them ;  and  here  Thomson  might  have  perceived,  at 
midwinter,  perhaps  with  more  truth  than  in  an  English 
spring, 

"  A  shower  of  roses  on  our  plains  descend." 

They  formed  a  carpet  beneath,  bowers  above  ;  the  most 
common  hedge  and  fence  was  enlivened  by  them  ;  and 
in  a  sunny  winter  morning  there  was  a  bright,  airy  fresh- 
ness about  their  pink  leaves,  for  frost  gives  additional 
vigour  to  this  lovely  flower,  and  deepens  its  hue.  Mamma 
and  I  kept  up  the  character  of  the  place  within  doors. 
Vases  of  roses  were  placed  in  the  bedrooms,  and  a  few 
strewn  over  the  pillows  of  strangers. 

A  little  sentimentality  lingered  in  my  heart  connected 
with  Lewis  ;  but  it  will  easily  be  discerned  that  my  pref- 
erence for  him  had  arisen  rather  from  the  sympathy  of 
youthful  tastes,  than  that  deep-rooted  feeling  which  out- 
lasts change  and  absence.  I  learned  by  letters  to  our 
friends  at  the  Elms  that  he  too  was  undergoing  the  same 
curative  process,  and  regaining  his  heart's  freedom  ;  and 
H  2 


90  RECOLLECTION?  OF  A 

let  not  my  romantic  readers  be  shocked,  but  think  wheth- 
er the  actual  experience  of  life  does  not  agree  with  these 
fluctuating  impressions  of  early  youth. 

My  brothers  had  entered  college,  and  papa  was  visit- 
ing his  planting  interest  on  Edisto,  when  mamma  and  I 
were  aroused  one  evening  from  a  game  of  chess  by  the 
cry  of  fire.  This  sound,  so  dreadful  in  a  populous  place., 
is  fearfully  appalling  in  the  country,  where  the  willing 
though  inexperienced  negroes  are  our  only  assistants. 
We  rushed  to  the  piazza  door,  and  strained  our  eyes 
through  the  darkness.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  the 
graceful  wave  of  the  trees,  and  the  stars  looking  down  in 
their  nightly  walks  above ;  but  soon  the  glossy  branches 
of  an  orange-tree  shone  with  a  sudden  glare,  and  the  flame 
burst  from  the  servants'  hall,  a  room  on  the  back  piazza. 

The  people  came  running  from  their  houses  in  every 
direction.  Their  first  thought  was  of  our  children ; 
mamma  had  already  darted  to  their  rooms,  and  they  came 
around  us  wringing  their  hands  in  sudden  fright  and  won- 
der at  the  scene.  With  a  kind  of  instinct,  we  rescued 
papa's  papers  and  valuables,  aided  by  the  servants,  some 
of  them  showing  a  presence  of  mind  which  seems  to  be- 
long more  to  character  than  station ;  most  of  them,  how- 
ever, being  paralyzed  by  fright. 

The  back  part  of  the  building  was  now  entirely  in 
flames  ;  they  rushed  like  devouring  monsters,  and  mamma 
and  I  retreated  from  the  increasing  heat. 

A  sudden  thought  struck  me.  The  portraits  of  my 
grandparents  had  not  been  preserved ;  and  it  seemed  to 
me  as  if  dear  friends  were  consuming. 

"  Oh,  Hector,"  I  cried  to  the  driver,  "  you  know  where 
the  large  pictures  are  in  the  hall ;  the  beams  have  caught 
at  the  piazza  door,  but  you  can  force  the  windows — save 
them,  my  good  fellows,  for  your  master's  sake." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  shouted  the  men,  "  we  fetch  ole  maussa  and 
ole  missis.  Don't  cry,  Miss  Neely,"  and  they  hurried 
through  the  piazza. 

How  many  reflections  crowded  through  my  mind  as 
they  disappeared  !  My  youthful  sports  ;  the  hours  I  had 
passed  with  Charles  Duncan ;  my  parting  with  Lewis ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  91 

my  father's  fond  attachment  to  this  residence ;  my  broth- 
ers' grief;  all  rose  in  rapid  succession. 

At  this  moment  a  horseman  rode  up  the  avenue  at  full 
speed,  attended  by  a  servant.  He  saw  our  group  by  the 
flames,  and,  leaping  on  the  ground,  offered  his  assistance. 
Mamma  was  engaged  in  soothing  the  children,  and  I, 
looking  at  the  building,  shook  my  head  in  hopelessness, 
as  the  ruin  spread  far  and  wide.  A  moving  object  ar- 
rested my  attention,  waving  its  arms  at  an  upper  window 
illuminated  by  the  flames  ;  and,  as  a  portion  of  the  roof 
fell  with  a  crash,  I  fancied  I  heard  a  scream.  Darkness 
settled  for  a  moment  over  the  building  ;  and  then  a  fresh 
light  looming  up  revealed  the  figure  again.  It  was  old 
Nanny,  Jacque's  sister.  It  seemed  to  me  like  a  night- 
mare, as  she  stood  tossing  her  thin  arms  wildly  in  the 
flames,  her  dark  form  in  contrast  with  the  lurid  light. 
A  momentary  faintness  came  over  me  at  the  thought  of 
a  fellow-creature  perishing  thus  before  my  gaze.  It 
passed  away,  and  I  felt  a  frantic  desire  for  her  safety. 
"  I  can  go,"  I  cried — "  I  know  the  passage  ;  one  way  yet 
remains.  For  Heaven's  sake,  let  me  go.  I  will  perish 
rather  than  see  her  die." 

"  I  will  save  her,"  said  the  stranger,  in  a  voice  whose 
low,  equal  tones  came  with  a  singular  power  over  my 
feelings.  "  Explain  to  me  in  a  few  words  the  situation 
of  the  apartment."     I  did  so. 

"  Ned,  give  me  the  hatchet  and  follow,"  said  he  to  his 
servant. 

As  he  departed,  Hector  and  the  men  arrived  with  the 
portraits.  They  seemed  a  presage  of  good*  I  kissed  the 
inanimate  faces  as  if  they  could  recognise  my  tenderness  ; 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that,  with  a  pitying  melancholy,  their 
eyes  were  turned  to  the  ruin  of  their  early  love. 

But  for  a  moment,  however,  could  I  dwell  on  them. 
Life,  human  life,  is  the  fibre  running  through  God's  crea- 
tion with  supreme  power  ;  that  poor,  struggling  being, 
tottering  on  the  edge  of  natural  decay,  without  ties  of  con- 
sanguinity— my  father's  slave — that  helpless  being  was 
more  to  me  at  that  moment  than  worlds  at  my  feet.  She 
was  human,  and  she  lived.    The  stranger  had  disappeared, 


D2  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

but  there  she  stood,  her  shrivelled  form  expanded  with 
terror,  her  dim  eyes  dilated,  and  her  broken  voice  utter- 
ing the  piercing  shriek  of  desperate  agony.  In  my 
dreams  I  sometimes  see  that  figure  still. 

My  brain  whirled  with  intense  expectation,  I  heard 
another  crash  of  falling  timbers,  and  she  was  gone  !  I 
hid  my  face  in  horror,  but  a  voice,  the  calm  voice  of  the 
stranger,  thrilling  and  elevated  with  emotion,  was  heard, 
"  Safe,  safe,  by  Heaven  !  Forward,  Ned  !"  and  they  ap- 
peared bearing  the  exhausted  form  of  the  old  woman,  and 
laid  her  on  the  bank  where  we  stood. 

The  eyes  of  the  portraits  seemed  now  turned  on  their 
rescued  old  attendant,  and  opening  her  own,  a  wild  ex- 
pression crossed  them,  as  she  encountered  those  familiar 
faces  of  manly  and  feminine  beauty.  She  rose  slowly 
from  the  bank,  then  made  a  low  obeisance  before  them, 
and,  turning  to  the  burning  building  from  which  she  had 
been  borne,  fell  on  her  kness  in  prayer  and  wept. 

And  my  beautiful  home  was  a  ruin  !  The  flames 
leaped  from  point  to  point  like  fiery  serpents ;  the  wide 
amphitheatre  of  woods  was  tinged  with  the  glow;  the  Ash- 
ley mirrored  the  flaming  pile  ;  and  the  stars  seemed  to 
shrink  far  back  in  their  darkened  concave.  All  now  was 
as  a  dream  to  me  ;  true,  I  heard  the  stranger's  quiet 
tones  giving  directions  suited  to  the  emergency,  and  I 
felt  that  a  form  of  no  common  elegance,  and  a  face  of 
sweet  and  serene  expression  was  near.  I  heard  mamma's 
soothing  voice  addressing  the  servants  and  children,  and 
my  baby-sister's  joyful  shout  in  her  nurse's  arms,  at  the 
brilliant  toy  of  her  burning  home  ;  but  my  thoughts  were 
all  garnered  up  in  that  one  image,  the  scene  of  my  child- 
hood. I  was  aroused  by  the  arrival  of  our  friends  from 
the  Elms,  with  offers  of  assistance.  Amid  their  sympa- 
thy and  congratulations  at  our  escape,  the  stranger  rode 
unthanked  away. 

How  often  afterward  did  I  gaze  through  crowds  in  the 
hope  of  being  recognised  by  him,  offering  those  thanks 
that  lay  like  a  hidden  treasure,  kept  for  him  in  the  depths 
-of  my  soul ! 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  93 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

NEGRO    SUPERSTITIONS. 

The  New  Preacher. 

"  Late,  late  yestreen  I  saw  the  new  moone, 
Wi'  the  auld  moone  in  hir  arme  ; 
And  I  feir,  I  feir,  my  dier  master, 
That  you  will  com  to  harme." 

Sir  Patrick  Spencb. — Old  Ballad. 

"  Oh,  sweeter  than  the  marriage-feast, 
'Tis  sweeter  far  to  me, 
To  walk  together  to  the  kirk 
With  a  goodly  company  ! 

"  To  walk  together  to  the  kirk, 
And  all  together  pray, 
While  each  to  his  great  Father  bends, 
Old  men,  and  babes,  and  loving  friends, 
And  youths  and  maidens  gay  !" 

The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner. 

Misfortune  is  not  required  to  develop  kind  neighbour- 
hood at  the  South.  A  system  of  attentions  is  going  on 
in  prosperity  so  tranquilly,  that,  when  adverse  circum- 
stances befall  one,  no  surprise  is  excited  at  a  great  ben- 
efit. Not  a  day  had  passed  for  years  without  some 
friendly  act  between  the  Elms  and  Roseland.  The 
question  was  not  asked,  Have  they  this  preserve,  or  that 
flower  1  would  they  like  to  read  this  book,  or  copy  that 
pattern  ?  But  the  preserve  or  the  flower,  the  book  or 
the  pattern,  were  sent  as  testimonials  of  good- will.  Re- 
membrance was  our  simple  watchword. 

The  Elms  was  to  us  now  as  another  home.  Lewis's 
temporary  estrangement  had  caused  no  coldness,  for  we 
had  so  long  regarded  each  other  in  our  sports  and  quar- 
rels as  children,  that  we  were  still  thought  of  in  the  same 
light  by  our  respective  families. 

On  the  evening  after  the  burning  of  Roseland,  brother 


94  RECOLLECTIONS   OP  A 

Ben  and  I  visited  the  ruins.  The  sun  had  not  set,  and 
the  labourers,  retiring  from  their  tasks,  stopped  to  speak 
to  me.  We  soon  formed  a  group  by  the  still  smoking 
walls  ;  while  a  shake  of  the  head,  or  an  ejaculation  with 
upraised  eye,  testified  their  sympathy  with  me,  and  their 
acknowledgment  of  the  Power  who  holds  the  elements 
in  his  hand. 

I  must  ask  indulgence  of  general  readers  for  min- 
gling so  much  of  the  peculiarities  of  negroes  with  my 
details.  Surrounded  with  them  from  infancy,  they  form 
a  part  of  the  landscape  of  a  Southern  woman's  life ; 
take  them  away,  and  the  picture  would  lose  half  its  real- 
ity. They  watch  our  cradles  ;  they  are  the  companions 
of  our  sports  ;  it  is  they  who  aid  our  bridal  decorations, 
and  they  wrap  us  in  our  shrouds. 

"  Miss  Neely,"  said  the  driver,  approaching  me  with 
an  air  of  solemnity,  "  you  been  hear  sister  Nelly  dream  TV 

"  No,  Hector,"  I  answered  ;  "  what  was  it  ?" 

"  He  berry  awful  for  true,"  said  Hector,  and  his  voice 
fell  to  the  key  of  mystery.  "  When  sister  Nelly  put  Maus 
Ben  to  bed  de  night  o'  de  fire,  Maus  Ben  ax  'em  for  sing 
one  hymn  for  'em,  cause  he  eye  clean  ;*  den  sister  Nelly 
begin  for  sing  till  Maus  Ben  and  him  fell  asleep,  all  two.-f 
Den  sister  Nelly  dream  dat  de  devil  was  stand  on  de 
edge  o'  de  big  hominy-pot,  and  stir  de  hominy  wid  he 
pitchfork ;  and  while  he  stir  de  hominy,  and  sister  Nelly 
right  scare,  he  stare  at  she  wid  he  red  eye  like  fire,  and 
he  wisk  he  tail,  and  fire  run  roun  he  tail  like  it  run  roun 
one  dry  pine-tree." 

Hector  had  scarcely  concluded  when  an  old  woman 
claimed  my  attention.  She  had  been  sitting  on  a  charred 
log,  her  hoe  laid  by  her  side,  her  elbows  resting  on  her 
knees,  and  her  body  rocking  to  and  fro  ;  but,  when  Hec- 
tor paused,  she  stood  up,  and,  courtesying  with  a  very 
dismal  tone  and  seesaw  motion,  said — 

"  He  no  for  notting,  my  young  missis,  dat  one  screech- 
owl  been  screech  on  de  oak  by  Dinah  house  tree  night 
last  week.     When  he  didn't  done   screech,  Plato  took 

*  Watchful.  t  Both. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  95 

one  lightwood  torch,  and  light  'em,  and  fling  'em  into  de 
tree,  and  den  he  gone.  We  all  say  someting  gwine  hap- 
pen !" 

"  Miss  Neely,"  said  a  lad,  bustling  up  with  great  im- 
portance, "if  dat  dog  Growler"  (pointing  to  him)  "  an't 
got  sense !  All  night  before  de  fire  he  been  creep  roun 
and  roun  wid  he  tail  between  he  leg,  and  look  up  to 
maussa  house,  and  gie  such  a  howl,  ki !  how  he  howl! 
and  I  say  to  marmy,  '  Someting  bad  gwine  for  happen, 
marmy,  sure !' " 

As  the  boy  spoke,  I  observed  the  hair  on  the  crown 
of  his  head  tied  closely  up  to  a  piece  of  stick  an  inch 
long,  so  that  his  mouth  and  eyes  stood  almost  ajar. 

" Why  is  your  hair  tied  so  tight,  Bob ?"  said  I ;  "it 
makes  your  eyes  stare." 

His  mother,  who  was  near,  came  up  and  answered  for 
him. 

"  Him  palate  down,  Miss  Neely.  He  catch  one  cold 
at  de  fire,  and  I  been  tie  he  hair  up  for  fetch  up  he  pal- 
ate.    Make  your  manners  to  Miss  Neely,  Bobby,  son." 

The  communication  of  the  negroes  was  interrupted, 
for  papa  was  discovered  coming  up  the  avenue.  I  hast- 
ened to  meet  him ;  a  look  of  apprehension  wrought 
on  his  features,  as,  alighting,  and  glancing  at  the  ruins, 
he  pressed  forward  with  a  struggling  whisper — "  Your 
mother  1 — the  children  IV 

"  Safe,  papa,  all  safe  !" 

"  God  be  thanked  !"  he  exclaimed;  and,  leaning  against 
the  fence,  he  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hands.  I  did  not 
interrupt  him.  His  strong  and  ardent  mind  was  realizing 
its  dependance.  God  was  receiving  the  tribute  which, 
sooner  or  later,  awaits  his  power  from  every  heart. 

When  he  raised  his  head,  tears  were  in  his  eyes.  He 
took  me  fondly  in  his  arms,  kissed  me  again  and  again, 
called  me  his  own,  his  blessed  one,  and  then  proceeded 
with  me  to  the  ruin.  The  sun  was  throwing  his  last 
bright  rays  over  the  blackened  walls  ;  to  some  it  might 
have  seemed  in  mockery  of  the  desolation ;  but,  as  they 
fell  on  papa's  face,  lighting  up  its  look  of  tenderness  and 
gratitude,  I  felt  as  if  Nature  was  welcoming  hjm  still. 


96  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

"  Hector,"  said  papa,  extending  his  hand  to  him,  after 
I  had  rapidly  sketched  the  events  of  the  conflagration, 
"  Cornelia  tells  me  you  were  a  brave  fellow.  I  must 
reward  you  for  saving  the  portraits." 

"  Ay,  ay,  maussa,"  said  Hector,  respectfully  touching 
his  hat,  "  bless  God  for  all  his  mercy.  Please  de  Lord, 
while  nigger  have  hand  for  work,  ole  maussa  and  ole 
missis  an't  gwine  for  burn  up." 

The  next  morning  was  the  Sabbath,  and  we  prepared 
for  church.  Accidental  circumstances  had  prevented 
my  attending  for  several  Sundays ;  and  though  I  had 
heard  of  a  change  in  our  preaching,  I  had  not  given  much 
thought  to  the  subject.  Service  had  commenced  on  our 
arrival,  and  I  perceived  no  scattered  individuals,  as 
usual,  outside.  Even  Mr.  Guildstieet  had  retired.  On 
entering  the  church,  I  heard  some  one  reading  the  .lit- 
urgy in  tones  of  singular  sensibility.  He  seemed  plead- 
ing for  some  good  which  earth  could  not  bestow.  An 
attitude  of  devotion  prevailed  throughout  the  congrega- 
tion ;  and,  for  the  first  time,  excited  by  gratitude  and 
kindled  by  sympathy,  my  heart  went  up  fully  with  public 
prayer.  But  my  devotional  thoughts  were  suddenly 
startled  by  a  voice  in  the  pew  behind  me,  repealing  the 
responses  ;  it  was  low,  but  I  could  not  mistake  it.  I  had 
heard  it  under  circumstances  too  exciting  to  be  lost  to 
my  memory.  It  was  the  voice  of  the  daring,  generous 
stranger.  I  should  have  recognised  it  amid  a  multitude. 
"  Now  !"  thought  I,  with  a  glow  all  about  my  heart,  "  I 
shall  have  an  opportunity  to  thank  him  !"  but  not  for 
worlds  could  I  have  turned  towards  him. 

A  hymn  was  given  out,  and  I  was  recalled  to  my 
higher  duties.  There  was  a  pause  of  a  moment,  until 
a  sweet  female  voice  commenced  the  tune,  trembling, 
but  with  true  harmony.  Like  a  leading  bird,  it  fluttered 
awhile  alone;  then  came  gathering  voices,  sustaining  and 
surrounding  its  upward  flight,  until  the  church  was  filled 
with  melody. 

The  concert  of  our  lips  ceased,  but  we  felt  a  sacred 
joy  in  the  depths  of  our  souls.  The  speaker  arose  to 
read  from  Scripture.     Was  it  really  the  same  volume  to 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  97 

which  I  had  been  so  often  a  weary  listener  1  There  was 
life  in  every  word ;  and,  as  I  saw  the  speaker  turn  his 
eyes  on  me,  on  me,  I  felt  a  new  and  living  interest. 
Why  is  that  expressive  organ  so  often  denied  its  legiti- 
mate power  in  the  pulpit  ?  One  glance  which  says,  "  I 
am  addressing  you,  you  are  the  being  to  whom  God  sends 
his  message,"  makes  doubly  touching  an  illustrated  truth. 

Again  the  congregation  united  in  petition  and  praise, 
and  the  preacher  began  his  discourse  with  animated 
solemnity.  His  voice  would  have  been  too  powerful 
had  it  not  been  for  the  variation  of  its  cadence  ;  and  his 
manner  might  have  been  thought  overwrought,  had  not  a 
native  modesty,  a  face  of  most  benignant  expression,  and 
a  simplicity  of  style  fitted  to  the  unlearned  by  its  clear- 
ness, softened  their  enthusiasm.  It  was  not  the  gath- 
ered inhabitants  of  a  few  plantations  he  seemed  addres- 
sing ;  one  would  have  thought,  from  his  earnestness,  that 
the  world  was  his  audience.  He  stood  soul  to  soul  with 
his  hearers,  and  rested  not  until  he  felt  his  victory. 

I  had  forgotten  the  stranger  while  my  heart  was 
struggling  with  this  thought,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be 
saved  ?"  Holy  resolutions  were  bursting  like  unsealed 
fountains  within  me  ;  and,  with  a  gush  of  joy,  I  raised  in 
that  sanctuary  a  new  altar,  and  wrote  upon  it,  Holiness 
to  the  Lord  ! 

But  man  was  made  for  mingled  sympathies  ;  inspiring 
and  lovely  as  these  were,  they  were  soon  interrupted. 
Who  has  not  felt  the  power  of  the  ocean,  leaping  in  its 
giant  might,  and  been  touched  by  all  that  is  beautiful 
and  bright  in  the  sunshine  on  its  waters,  and  fancied  a 
living  language  in  the  clouds  rising  and  rolling  like  an- 
other sea  above  1  Yet,  in  this  princely  display  of  Na- 
ture, when  the  mind  seems  not  to  belong  to  earth,  let  a 
little  skiff  approach  on  that  broad  expanse,  with  one  hu- 
man being,  and  a  train  of  associations  come  rushing 
around  him,  concentrating  themselves  in  him,  and  the 
vast  and  beautiful  are  for  a  time  forgotten.  Thus  were 
my  thoughts  won  back  to  earth,  when  the  voice  of  the 
stranger  in  the  closing  hymn  sounded  on  my  ear,  and  my 
grateful  heart  again  began  to  frame  words  expressive  of 
I 


98  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

its  feelings.  The  service  was  concluded,  and  I  turned, 
modesty  struggling  with  enthusiasm.  There  he  stood, 
calm  and  graceful,  the  same  !  I  felt  a  glow  rush  over  my 
face,  my  eyes  met  his  fully,  and  I  was  about  to  address 
him,  when  a  glance  told  me  that  I  was  not  recognised  ! 
I  shrank  back  with  a  sense  of  mortification  even  painful, 
as,  with  a  bow  of  graceful  acknowledgment  to  the  occu- 
pants of  the  pew,  he  quietly  retired. 

"  Who  is  that "?"  at  length  said  I,  in  a  whisper,  to  Bell 
Wilson,  my  neighbour,  as  he  disappeared. 

"  I  cannot  say,  Cornelia,"  was  her  reply.  "  Papa  saw 
a  stranger  at  the  porch,  and  asked  him  to  our  pew.  He 
is  a  handsome  fellow  !" 

I  did  not  join  in  her  admiration.  I  was  offended,  I 
knew  not  why  ;  and  went  pouting  into  the  chair  with 
papa  with  an  air  of  uncommon  dignity. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  STRANGER. COUNTRY  CHRISTMAS. MORTIFICATIONS. 

"  The  household  stir 
Warned  me  to  rise — 
A  stir  unusual,  and  accompanied 
With  many  a  tuning  of  rude  instruments." 

Rogers'  Italy. 

"  'Tis  merry,  'tis  merry,  in  good  green  wood 
So  blithe  Lady  Alice  is  singing, 
On  the  beech's  pride  and  oak's  brown  side 
Lord  Richard's  axe  is  ringing." 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 

My  frowns  were  quite  unnoticed  by  papa,  who  solaced 
himself  for  my  silence  by  singing  St.  Martin's.  This  is 
one  joy  of  the  woods  ;  freedom  to  sing  or  shout  in  the 
overflow  of  feeling,  or  even  in  the  glory  of  vacuity.  It 
was  not  for  me  at  my  age  to  muse  long ;  my  head  was 
too  full  of  the  young  hero. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  99 

"  Papa,"  said  I,  "  did  you  see  that  stranger  at  church  V 

"  Yes,  my  love,"  he  answered,  resuming  an  interrupted 
strain  of  St.  Martin's. 

"  Did  you  not  think  him  handsome  V  said  I,  pulling  an 
overhanging  branch  of  bay-tree  as  we  passed  it. 

"  I  can't  say  I  did,"  replied  he. 

"  Oh  papa !  But  you  will  acknowledge  that  he  has  a 
very  refined  and  noble  air,"  said  I,  with  earnestness. 

"  You  must  be  in  love  with  him,  Cornelia,"  said  papa, 
"  for  love  is  blind,  they  say  ;  that  is  the  only  excuse  I 
can  make  for  your  thinking  him  noble-looking  and  all 
that." 

"  In  love,  papa  !"  said  I,  blushing  to  the  eyes,  "  with 
a  person  I  never  saw  but  once  V  and  I  twisted  one  of 
the  bay-leaves  into  twenty  pieces.  After  a  pause,  I  ral- 
lied my  forces  for  another  attack. 

"  Did  you  observe  how  peculiarly  glossy  and  cluster- 
ing his  hair  was  V 

"  I  observed  that  he  had  a  long  queue,"  said  papa, 
laughing. 

A  girl  of  sixteen  cannot  bear  a  joke.  I  drew  up  in  a 
very  dignified  style  for  two  minutes,  and  meant  to  be 
silent,  but  my  thoughts  came  to  the  end  of  my  tongue 
again. 

"  I  suppose,  papa,"  said  I  (rather  tartly),  "  that  you 
do  not  even  think  his  eyes  good  looking  V 

"  My  child,"  answered  he,  peeping  under  my  bonnet, 
"  what  are  you  talking  about  T  His  eyes  are  as  rheumy 
as  an  old  woman's." 

This  was  more  than  I  could  bear.  I  had  intended  to 
have  told  papa  who  he  was,  after  having  heard,  as  I  ex- 
pected, some  volunteer  admiration  of  his  appearance  ;  I 
only  said,  pettishly,  "  I  wish,  at  least,  I  could  learn  his 
name." 

"  His  name  V  said  papa.  "  It  is  Gribb,  Silas  Gribb, 
of  the  firm  of  Gribb  and  Kendall.  I  intend  to  negotiate 
with  him  as  my  factor,  and  Mr.  Barnwell  has  asked  him 
to  dine  with  us  to-day." 

My  romance  was  cut  up  by  the  roots.  As  for  falling 
in  love  with  Mr.  Silas  Gribb,  it  was  out  of  the  question  ; 


100  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

nevertheless,  my  heart  beat  at  the  thought  of  an  interview ; 
and  by  the  time  I  reached  the  Elms  I  flew  to  my  apart- 
ment, spouting  with  Juliet,  "  what's  in  a  name  V'  adjusted 
"  each  particular  hair,"  placed  a  japonica  of  priceless 
worth  in  my  waving  curls,  deliberated  which  would  suit 
best  my  excited  complexion,  peach-bloom  or  celestial 
blue,  gave  a  lingering  look  of  satisfied  vanity  at  my  glass, 
decided  on  pale  yellow,  and  descended  to  the  dining- 
room,  busying  myself  with  rolling  up  the  edge  of  my 
pocket-handkerchief  with  my  thumb  and  finger,  and  trot- 
ting my  feet  after  I  was  seated  as  if  they  were  urging  a 
spinning-wheel. 

I  could  not  forgive  papa  immediately  for  his  badinage, 
and  did  not  approach  near  enough  to  hear  his  conversa- 
tion with  Mr.  Barnwell,  in  which  the  name  of  Gribb 
seemed  the  key-note,  and  harshly,  I  confess,  with  all  its 
sweet  associations,  it  sounded. 

At  length  a  vehicle  was  seen  rolling  along  the  avenue, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Gribb  was  announced.  I 
gave  an  uncontrollable  jump  of  astonishment  as  I  saw  in 
him  a  stout,  square  mart  of  forty,  with  rheumy  eyes,  as 
papa  had  said,  and  a  queue  that,  as  he  moved  his  head, 
stuck  out  every  way  like  the  spear  of  Milton's  angel 
guarding  paradise.  My  first  impulse  was  to  pull  out  the 
green-house  japonica  from  my  hair,  and  preserve  it  in  a 
glass  of  water. 

As  papa  had  evidently  not  seen  my  stranger,  I  forgave 
him  for  his  unintentional  jests,  while  at  the  same  time 
an  awkward  consciousness  prevented  my  returning  to  the 
subject  again. 

And  now  arrived  Christmas  eve.  It  would  have  stim- 
ulated a  manufacturer  to  see  the  rows  of  stockings, 
of  all  sizes  and  hues,  that  were  hung  in  the  capa- 
cious corners  at  the  Elms,  to  receive  the  tribute  of  St. 
Nicholas.  Long  did  the  children  delay,  speculating  on 
their  probable  contents  for  the  morrow  ;  then  bid  us  good- 
night, in  order  to  awake  early  ;  then  return  to  adjust 
them  more  conveniently  ;  and  then,  weary  of  speculating, 
retire. 

Who  does  not  remember  his  youthful  Christmas  ;  the 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  101 

reiterated  charge  to  his  maumer  to  awake  h\m.  first ;  the 
scramble  to  dress  in  the  dim  morning  twilight ;  the  rush 
through  the  entries  to  the  respective  sleeping-rooms, 
ending  with  the  merry  shout  ?  These  movements  are 
alike  in  all  children,  hut  the  mode  of  approaching  the 
stocking  varies  according  to  the  character  of  the  individ- 
ual :  some  dart  upon  it  with  eagerness,  give  a  rapid  sur- 
vey of  the  contents,  and  swallow  the  bonbons  selfishly  ; 
others  examine  deliberately,  and  lay  a  plan  of  arrange- 
ment and  distribution,  thus  shadowing  forth  the  princi- 
.  pies  and  habits  of  after  years. 

The  family  at  the  Elms  were  effectually  roused  even 
before  the  shouts  of  the  children  had  been  heard.  From 
time  immemorial,  a  small  fieldpiece  had  been  kept  solely 
for  Christmas ;  and  it  was  the  privilege  of  their  negroes 
(for  there  is  some  little  peculiarity  on  every  plantation) 
to  place  this  cannon  in  the  piazza  of  the  dwelling-house, 
and  fire  it  at  early  dawn.  Mighty  were  the  shoutings 
that  followed  this  martial  detonation. 

The  people  at  Roseland  had  no  cannon  ;  but,  as  a  sub- 
stitute, they  commenced  a  salute  with  the  combination 
of  every  noise  they  could  make  by  the  agency  of  tin  and 
brass,  aiding  their  rude  music.  One  set  of  people 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  drive  Morpheus  in  a  panic 
from  our  pillows ;  but,  from  both  plantations  united,  the 
clamour  was  prodigious. 

Dancing  commenced  in  the  piazza  and  on  the  lawn 
soon  after  the  firing  of  the  cannon,  nor  was  it  suspended 
a  moment  by  the  presence  of  the  whites. 

Mamma  and  I  and  our  friends  had  been  busy  the  day 
previous  in  cutting  the  turban-handkerchiefs,  and  arran- 
ging the  woollen  caps  and  other  articles  which  were  to  be 
presented. 

After  breakfast  the  people  withdrew  from  the  piazza, 
and  we  took  possession  while  they  came  up  in  gangs  to 
receive  their  gifts.  As  we  had  each  several  hundred  to 
supply,  the  Barnwells  and  ourselves  stood  on  opposite 
sides.  The  women  almost  universally  twined  their 
handkerchiefs  about  their  heads  as  soon  as  they  received 
$hem,  with  an  air  of  grace  that  would  have  surprised  a 
IS 


102  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

stranger.  The  men  flung  up  their  new  woollen  caps,  and 
stopped  to  make  two  or  three  flourishing  bows,  while  the 
women  dropped  a  courtesy  with  a  pleased  look,  turning 
up  one  eye,  and  showing  their  beautiful  teeth. 

A  few  seemed  to  realize  the  sacredness  of  the  day 
even  then ;  a  feeling  which  has  greatly  increased  with 
the  religious  observances  and  facilities  of  late  years. 
This  prevented  any  violent  outbreak  of  joy  ;  but  on  the 
two  succeeding  days  this  restraint  was  removed,  and 
there  were  scarcely  any  bounds  to  the  exuberance  of 
their  spirits. 

Warm  punch  or  egg-nogg  circulated  freely,  and  at 
least  a  dozen  large  clothes-baskets  of  gingerbread  were 
produced  for  each  plantation.  A  beef  of  their  master's 
was  killed,  and  the  stores  of  weeks  or  months  from  their 
own  savings  were  produced  for  the  occasion. 

The  festival  lasts  three  days,  and  as  no  tasks  are  im- 
posed, it  is  a  favourite  time  to  visit  the  neighbouring 
plantations.  The  New-Yorkers  on  the  Newyear  are 
not  more  hospitable  than  these  light-hearted  communities 
on  this  occasion. 

But  the  glory  of  our  country  Christmas  was  Diggory 
as  chief  fiddler.  A  chair  from  the  drawing-room  was 
handed  out  for  him  on  this  occasion,  where  he  sat  like  a 
lord  in  the  midst  of  his  brethren,  flourishing  his  bow,  and 
issuing  his  dancing  decrees.  Behind  him  stood  a  tall  stout 
fellow  beating  a  triangle,  and  another  drumming  with  two 
long  sticks  upon  a  piece  of  wood.  All  the  musicians 
kept  their  own  feet  and  bodies  going  as  fast  as  the  dan- 
cers themselves.  One  movement  was  very  peculiar. 
A  woman,  standing  in  the  centre  of  a  circle,  commenced 
with  a  kind  of  shuffle,  in  which  her  body  moved  round 
and  round,  while  her  feet  seemed  scarcely  to  stir  from 
their  position.  She  held  a  handkerchief  before  her, 
which  she  occasionally  twisted  round  her  waist,  head,  or 
arms,  but  mostly  stretched  out  in  front  as  if  to  ward  off 
assaults.  After  a  few  minutes  an  old  black  man  leaped 
into  the  circle,  and  knelt  before  her  with  gestures  of  en- 
treaty ;  the  lady  turned  her  back  and  danced  off  in  an 
opposite  direction.     Hector  started  ..up  and  began  dan- 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  103 

eing  after  her,  holding  out  his  arms  as  if  he  would 
embrace  her,  but  still  keeping  at  a  respectful  distance  ; 
again  he  ventured  to  solicit  her  hand,  but  the  coy  damsel 
still  refused.  At  this  crisis  Jim  sprang  forward,  and  his 
petitions,  commenced  in  the  same  manner,  were  more 
kindly  listened  to.  Hector  rushed  from  the  scene, 
clinching  his  fist  and  striking  his  forehead  in  the  true 
Kemble  style,  and  the  damsel  spread  her  handkerchief 
before  her  face  as  if  to  hide  the  blushes.  The  favoured 
suiter  gave  her  a  salute,  and  a  brisker  measure  succeeded, 
in  which,  one  by  one,  many  others  joined,  until  it  ended 
in  a  kind  of  contra-dance,  and  this  lasted  five  hours. 

Christmas  departed  ;  gifts  of  affection  were  exchanged, 
and  there  was  proffered 

"  Many  a  courtesy, 
That  sought  no  recompense,  and  met  with  none, 
But  in  the  swell  of  heart  with  which  it  came." 

The  old  year,  gathering  its  flowing  mantle,  wrought  in 
varied  forms  by  hands  animated  with  joy  or  trembling 
with  sorrow,  swept  off  to  render  its  silent  testimony  to 
heaven  of  what  had  been.  As  I  write  this,  I  recall  the 
change  of  age  upon  my  soul.  In  their  accounts  with  the 
Deity,  days  are  now  as  years  were  then ;  and  every  sun 
as  it  rolls  off  in  setting  splendour,  and  every  morn  that 
wakes  on  the  path  of  duty,  like  a  new  year,  tells  of  my 
nearness  to  the  mysterious  future. 

*  *  *  *  #■  * 

The  morning  before  we  left  the  Elms,  I  rode  on 
horseback,  accompanied  by  Jim,  to  bid  farewell  to  my 
favourite  haunts.  Jim  liked  nothing  better  than  this  ser- 
vice, for  he  could  then  talk  to  me  of  the  probable  return 
of  his  young  masters  from  college,  and  indulge  in  specula- 
tions about  them. 

After  riding  several  miles,  I  struck  into  a  by-path  of 
a  retired  and  romantic  character,  and  a  musing  mood 
came  over  me.  It  was  a  path  which  Duncan  had  loved. 
I  felt  that  of  late  I  had  forgotten  his  teaching  ;  that  I 
was  becoming  more  a  victim  of  feeling,  more  a  being  of 
impulse  than  formerly.  Why,  thought  I,  this  fluctuation 
between  religious  and  worldly  hopes  ?     I  knew  not  then 


104  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

how  necessary  is  trial  to  character,  and  how  even  gold 
is  comparatively  valueless  until  it  is  purified,  and  weighed, 
and  stamped. 

I  began  to  ask  myself  if  Duncan  would  not  have  been 
interested  in  the  stranger.  I  have  seen  him  but  twice, 
thought  I,  once  as  the  preserver  of  a  helpless  negro, 
again  in  the  solemnity  of  prayer.  Duncan  would  have 
liked  these  things,  and  a  delicious  serenity  stole  over  my 
thoughts,  and  the  heavens  looked  brighter,  and  my  heart 
beat  lightly,  and  my  lips  burst  forth  into  song. 

I  was  interrupted  by  perceiving  that  a  fence  which 
had  formerly  enclosed  the  land  of  a  neighbouring  planter 
was  about  being  removed,  while  labourers  were  working 
in  a  ditch  adjoining. 

"  What  is  going  on  here,  Jim  V  said  I. 

"  Ole  Maus  Osborne  dead,"  was  his  answer,  "  and 
one  buckra*  been  come  for  mak  de  bounds  of  de  land." 

As  Jim  said  this  I  myself  perceived  the  buckra.  He 
was  stooping  to  examine  a  landmark,  his  hat  suspended 
on  the  standing  fence,  and  his  servant  near  bearing  a 
case  of  tools.  He  was  habited  in  a  round  jacket  of 
workman's  shape,  adapted  to  display  a  graceful  figure, 
and  of  that  cut  and  quality  which  betrays  to  the  most 
casual  observer  that  a  view  had  been  kept  to  appear- 
ances even  in  this  simple  costume.  He  held  an  axe 
thrown  over  one  shoulder,  in  the  other  hand  a  rule.  It 
did  not  take  many  minutes  to  inform  my  heart  who  he 
was  ;  with  a  sense  of  agitation  perfectly  uncontrollable, 
I  jerked  the  reins  in  a  manner  to  which  Jenny,  my  broth- 
er's mare,  was  not  accustomed.  She  turned,  and  sprang, 
and,  before  I  could  recover  myself,  I  was  thrown  into 
the  ditch  face  downward. 

Hope  not  for  romance,  gentle  reader,  but  imagine  me 
scrambling  in  the  wet  slippery  clay,  grasping  handfuls  of 
mud.  I  soon  felt  a  strong  but  gentle  arm  aiding  Jim  in 
my  release,  who  cried, 

"  Don't  be  scare,  young  missis,  tan't  nottin  hurtful, 
Help  hoist  she  up  dis  way,  maussa." 

*  White  man. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  105 

Chagrined  beyond  expression,  I  could  only  mumble 
through  a  mouthful  of  mud,  "  Thank  you,  sir,"  as  I  was 
placed  on  Jenny  by  the  stranger.  Jenny,  the  brute,  who 
had  been  checked  in  her  flight,  looked  the  picture  of  un- 
concern at  my  predicament. 

It  seemed  my  duty  to  give  one  parting  bow  to  the 
stranger.  Glowing  with  exercise,  the  winds  waving  his 
rich  hair,  he  stood  erect,  the  image  of  manly  beauty  ;  but 
while  he  bowed,  a  smile,  which  I  fancied  to  be  partly 
comical,  played  on  his  lips,  awakening  in  my  thoughts 
the  apprehension  of  what  might  be  my  appearance. 
Stung  again  with  renewed  mortification,  I  lent  Jenny  the 
reins  and  cantered  towards  home.  I  could  not  resist 
stopping,  however,  to  ask  Jim  how  my  face  looked. 

"  He  bery  dirty,  for  true,  Miss  Neely,"  said  he,  with  a 
sympathizing  tone.  **  He  tak  plenty  of  soap  and  water 
for  clean  'em." 

Fortunately,  I  encountered  no  one  ;  but,  in  passing  the 
large  mirror  in  the  parlour  on  my  return,  I  saw  myself  at 
full  length.  My  best  friends  would  scarcely  have  known 
me.  My  bonnet  was  soiled  and  twisted  awry,  a  mixture 
of  red  clay  and  black  mud  from  two  combined  strata 
caked  my  dress,  and  lay  in  patches  on  my  face. 

I  could  not  bear  the  spectacle,  but  ran  up  stairs,  and 
girlishly  burst  into  tears,  the  channels  of  which  rather 
added  to  my  ferocious  aspect ;  and  catching  another 
glimpse  of  myself  in  the  glass,  my  appearance  seemed 
so  grotesque,  that  my  moGd  changed,  and  I  fell  into  long 
and  uncontrolled  laughter. 

Composing  myself  at  length,  I  commenced  my  ablu- 
tions. At  the  dinner-table  I  discovered  for  the  first  time 
the  loss  of  a  valuable  ring  from  my  finger ;  and  an  unde- 
fined sense  of  mortification  prevented  my  mentioning  it, 
as  referring  to  my  accident. 


106  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ADIEU  TO  ROSELAND. THE  STRANGER. THE  RACES. 

"How  now,  Master  Brook?  Master  Brook,  the  matter  will  be 
known  to-night  or  never." 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

"  If  you  had  known  the  virtue  of  the  ring, 
Or  half  her  worthiness  that  gave  the  ring, 
Or  your  own  honour  to  retain  the  ring, 
You  would  not  then  have  parted  with  the  ring." 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

"  Come,  wilt  thou  see  me  ride  ? 
And  when  I  am  o'  horseback,  I  will  swear 
I  love  thee  infinitely." 

Henry  VIII. 

I  sallied  to  Roseland  in  the  evening,  to  bid  farewell 
to  the  people,  and  visit  once  more  my  favourite  arbour 
at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  where  it  slopes  to  the  river. 
The  oaks  shone  green  and  crisp  in  the  winter  sun,  which 
was  rolling  down  rapidly  to  the  western  trees  ;  the  river 
glowed  beneath  the  kindling  clouds  ;  a  few  birds,  ani- 
mated by  the  softened  temperature,  cut  the  clear  atmo- 
sphere with  happy  wings,  and  careered  and  darted  from 
shore  to  shore.  The  echo  of  the  hammer  on  the  new- 
raised  walls  of  our  dwelling-house  was  the  only  sound 
that  broke  on  the  stillness,  except  the  laugh  or  shout  of 
my  little  brothers  and  their  attendants,  who  were  fishing 
at  the  landing,  and  whose  figures  were  clearly  defined  as 
they  bent  over  the  almost  waveless  stream.  As  my 
heart,  in  the  softness  of  approaching  separation,  opened 
keenly  to  sight  and  sound,  a  chorus  of  a  hymn  was 
heard,  and  a  flat,  well  manned  with  negroes,  turned  the 
bend  of  the  river,  gently  moving  on  the  flooding  tide. 
They  were  singing  the  beautiful  words — 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  107 

"  When  I  can  read  my  title  clear 
To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
I'll  bid  farewell  to  ev'ry  fear, 
And  dry  my  weeping  eyes." 

The  crew  joined  with  a  full  chorus ;  and,  as  they 
floated  by,  their  notes  of  Christian  hope  lingering  on  the 
air,  I  felt  the  blessed  adaptedness  of  that  religion  which 
thus  bends  down  to  dwell  with  the  lowly.  I  have  since 
listened  to  the  full  burst  of  orchestral  harmony,  seen  the 
white  arm  of  beauty  lie  like  a  snow-wreath  on  the  harp, 
calling  up  its  strains  of  melody,  and  heard  the  rich  strife 
of  rival  voices  from  coral  lips,  now  gushing  like  a  foun- 
tain of  sound,  and  now  dying  off  like  a  dream  of  music, 
but  I  have  never  forgotten  that  hymn  upon  the  Ashley. 
As  it  slowly  receded,  I  mused  on  heaven  until  the  happy 
past  and  the  airy  future  stole  in,  and  mingled  with  my 
thoughts  like  the  earth  and  sky  before  me. 

But  the  lengthening  shadows  reminded  me  that  I  was 
to  visit  some  infirm  negroes  :  as  I  advanced  towards  their 
houses,  a  little  regiment  of  blackies,  more  willing  and 
less  ragged  than  Falstaff  s,  came  marching  towards  me, 
with  the  pride  of  childhood,  to  excite  my  attention ;  the 
drummers  were  substituting  their  piggins  for  a  more  ap- 
propriate instrument ;  and  a  rag  surmounted  a  waving 
reed  for  a  standard.  On  seeing  me  they  halted  and 
turned,  forming  an  escort  to  the  huts. 

What  a  blessed  thing  to  childhood  is  the  fresh  air  and 
light  of  heaven !  No  manufactories,  with  their  over- 
tasked inmates,  to  whom  all  but  Sabbath  sunshine  is  a 
stranger,  arose  on  our  plantation.  What  a  blessed  thing 
to  all  is  it  to  enjoy  that  light,  and  bathe  in  that  air,  what- 
ever may  be  their  deprivations  i  Long  before  the  manu- 
facturer's task  in  other  regions  is  closed,  our  labourers 
were  lolling  on  sunny  banks,  or  trimming  their  gardens, 
or  fondling  their  little  ones,  or  busy  in  their  houses, 
scarcely  more  liable  to  intrusion  than  the  royal  retire- 
ment of  a  Guelph  or  a  Capet. 

The  expectation  of  my  departure  increased  my  sympa- 
thy with  the  children  who  were  sporting  about  their 
houses ;  and  I  lingered  to  observe  their  shouts,  songs, 
antic  tricks,  and  ingenious  devices  for  amusement. 


108  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

The  adieus  of  the  negroes  were  mingled  with  salutary 
advice  for  my  future  conduct,  and  various  commissions 
for  city  purchases ;  nor  was  the  word  fashion  unknown 
in  that  humble  group.  A  wide  or  narrow  check  was  all- 
important  in  a  turban-handkerchief  or  apron,  and  the  hat 
of  a  man  "  must  sure  he  ship-shape.''''  An  observer  may 
easily  detect  here,  too,  the  peculiarities  which  distinguish 
higher  society.  The  belle  of  a  plantation  is,  in  some 
sort,  the  same  airy  creature  who  treads  the  boards  of  a 
city  ball-room ;  the  respectable  matron  of  the  field  has  a 
similar  range  of  influence  with  her  who  presides  and  dic- 
tates in  polished  circles  ;  the  sable  beau  has  the  dandy's 
air  of  conscious  exquisiteness ;  and  the  intelligent  lead 
the  mass,  as  elsewhere. 

Leaving  the  huts  and  crossing  towards  the  new  build- 
ing, I  perceived  Chloe,  mamma's  waiting-maid,  speaking 
with  a  gentleman  on  horseback,  who  rode  away  before  I 
reached  the  spot.     I  inquired  who  he  was. 

"  The  gentleman,  ma'am,  what  saved  aunt  Nanny, 
ma'am,"  said  she.  "  He  is  very  pretty  spoken,  ma'am  ; 
quite  a  genteel  person,  ma'am.  He  'quired  very  particu- 
lar after  missis  and  master ;  quite  assidious  like,  ma'am." 
"  Did  he  say  nothing  about  any  one  else,  Chloe  V 
asked  I. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Chloe  ;  "  he  'quired  after  the 
baby,  Miss  Patsey,  ma'am ;  hoped  she  wan't  no  how 
worsted  ;  and  he  made  me  sensible  that  he  was  sorry  to 
be  so  dilantory  in  asking,  ma'am." 

"  Chloe,"  said  I,  a  sudden  thought  occurring  to  me, 
"  how  was  I  dressed  the  night  of  the  fire  V 

"  I  can't  particularize  no  how  about  the  frock,  ma'am," 
said  she ;  "  but,  just  as  you  was  racin'  out  higglety-pig- 
glety,  ma'am,  missis  bid  me  throw  your  old  cloak  and 
her  wadded  calash  over  you,  to  s'cure  you  from  the 
djews,  ma'am." 

I  saw  through  the  matter.  Mamma  had  been  quite  in 
the  back-ground  with  the  children,  except  little  Patsey, 
who  was  near  me  in  her  nurse's  arms ;  while  I,  con- 
cealed by  my  cloak,  and  that  most  frightful  of  all  head- 
dresses, a  calash,  was  mistaken  by  the  stranger,  in  that 
agitated  moment,  for  Mrs.  Wilton. 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  109 

"  Miss  Co'neely,"  said  Chloe,  "  there's  one  thing  I 
can't  no  how  'count  for,  ma'am.  I  can  take  my  Bible 
oath  that  I  saw  your  ring  on  the  gentleman's  little  finger, 
ma'am.  Old  mistress  used  to  say  there  wan't  such  a 
waluable  as  that  this  side  of  Ingland.  How  come  so  ?'' 
"  I  must  have  dropped  it  in  my  ride,"  answered  I, 
"  and  one  of  the  daddies  probably  gave  it  to  the  stran- 
ger." 

And  thereupon  I  fell  into  a  pleasant  dream ;  and  a 
bright  castle  rose  in  the  air,  and  hope  fluttered  over  it 
with  a  smile  that  coloured  up  its  gems  and  flowers  with 
hues  from  heaven  ;  and  it  was  not  the  less  fair  that  it 
floated  in  misty  clouds  beyond  me. 

Go,  youthful  visionary,  enjoy  thy  flitting  happiness ! 
No  cold  philosophy  shall  trammel  the  power,  which  a 
kind  Providence  has  given  thee,  of  happy  creations.  I 
see  thine  eyes  sparkle,  and  thy  cheeks  glow  in  the  sweet 
illusion  !  Gaze  on  the  airy  building  while  thou  mayst ; 
reality  will  come  full  soon,  and  for  light  and  hope  thou 
wilt  see  darkness  and  sorrow,  until  that  better  light  ap- 
pears which  comes  by  God's  revelation,  and  which  shines 
out  from  eternity. 

When  I  returned  to  the  Elms,  extra  lights  were  or- 
dered in  the  servants'  hall  for  a  wedding,  which  was 
about  to  take  place  between  two  of  the  field-hands,  who 
had  requested  the  family  to  be  present.  The  ceremony 
Was  to  be  performed  by  Friday,  their  religious  leader. 
This  man  had  been,  many  years  before,  suddenly  con- 
verted while  ploughing,  and  the  evidence  seemed  satis- 
factory by  the  number  of  followers  he  obtained.  He 
lived  up  to  his  profession  for  a  considerable  period,  but 
the  hour  of  temptation  came  ;  a  theft  in  the  smoke-house 
was  traced  to  him,  and  he  was  immediately  deserted  by 
the  people,  who  chose  a  leader  of  more  consistent  prac- 
tice. Subsequently  Friday  repented,  reformed,  and  got 
religion  again,  as  he  said,  at  the  plough,  at  the  same  spot 
where  the  first  call  had  been  given.  Being  reinstated  in 
his  office,  he  was  invited  to  unite  the  happy  couple. 

The  bride  and  her  attendants  appeared  with  the  little 
finery  that  we  could  gather  from  our  country  toilets. 
K 


110  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

Friday,  nothing  daunted  by  our  presence,  commenced 
a  prayer,  which  was  followed  by  an  exhortation  to  the 
pair  before  him  on  their  duties ;  then,  turning  to  the 
groom,  he  said — 

"  Bacchus,  you  been  guine  marry  dis  woman  for  iub 
or  for  money  V 

"  For  lub,  sir,"  replied  Bacchus,  bowing,  half  to  the 
propounder,  and  half  to  his  bride. 

"  Sheba,"  said  Friday  to  the  lady,  "  you  been  guine 
for  marry  dis  man  for  lub  or  for  money  V 

"  For  lub,  sir,"  replied  Sheba,  courtesying  modestly. 

"  Den,"  said  Friday,  "  I  pernounce  you  man  and  wifeT 
and  wish  you  many  happy  return  !  Salute  de  bride  I" 
Upon  which  the  lips  of  Bacchus  resounded  on  the  lips 
of  Sheba  like  the  Christmas  cannon.  We  all  shook 
hands  with  her,  and  a  dance  in  the  kitchen,  under  Dig- 
gory's  direction,  concluded  their  evening's  amusement. 

It  was  a  harsh,  dark  morning  when  we  left  the  Elms, 
the  beginning  of  one  of  those  periods  peculiar  to  our  cli- 
mate, whether  of  great  heat  or  cold,  which  rarely  lasts 
over  three  days.  With  the  sensitiveness  of  human  na- 
ture, we  are  always  alarmed  at  the  first  day,  in  despair 
on  the  second,  and,  by  the  end  of  the  third,  the  medium 
temperature  is  restored.  The  negroes  received  us,  as 
we  passed  Roseland,  with  chattering  teeth  and  long  faces, 
and  none  of  them  were  "  so  lery  well." 

And  now  came  the  realization  of  what  is  termed  pleas- 
ure, in  that  city  whirl  from  January  until  March,  which 
shatters  the  constitution  and  confuses  the  brain.  I  was 
soon  drawn  into  the  vortex ;  and,  when  once  entered, 
nothing  but  the  voice  of  conscience  or  the  sobering  tie 
of  matrimony  brings  us  back.  It  is,  however,  surprising 
to  observe  how  soon  Southern  wives  fall  into  the  habits 
of  quiet  domestic  life,  whatever  may  have  been  their  pre- 
vious tastes.  Long  may  this  be  the  boast  of  America, 
though  foreign  travellers  ridicule  and  wonder  ;  and  while 
the  unmarried  woman  tastes  the  exhilarating  cup  of  fash- 
ion, let  the  young  wife  and  mother  seek  her  dearest  charm 
at  home,  kindle  up  into  smiles  for  one,  and  tune  her  sweet 
voice,  no  longer  lavished  on  the  crowd,  to  infant  lullabies . 


SOUTHERN    MA.TRON.  Ill 

A.  new  charm  was  added  to  my  existence  in  the  friend- 
ship of  my  cousin,  Anna  Allston,  who  had  just  completed 
her  education  at  a  Philadelphia  seminary.  I  was  struck 
at  once  by  her  exquisite  beauty,  but  I  soon  forgot  it  was 
■beauty,  in  the  surpassing  loveliness  of  her  character.  It 
was  not  the  finely-turned  head,  and  glossy  hair,  and  melt- 
ing eyes,  and  rosy  lips,  that  made  her  Anna  Allston  ;  it 
was  heart  and  mind  shining  through  them  all.  One 
would  have  said,  in  gazing  on  her  thoughtful  brow,  that 
she  was  born  for  the  aristocracy  of  life,  until  her  humil- 
ity, her  patience  under  reproof,  her  cheerful  attendance 
on  the  wants  of  others,  betrayed  her  as  belonging  to 
God's  whole  creation,  not  to  a  clan. 

As  two  streams,  that  rise  in  different  sources  on  a 
mountain,  roll  on  a  while  in  their  separate  course,  and 
meet  and  mingle  at  the  base,  so  we  became  one  in  taste, 
habits,  and  affection.  Anna  was  soon  an  inmate  of  our 
family,  and  was  unto  me  as  a  sister. 

Papa's  interest  with  regard  to  my  appearance  in  soci- 
ety was  quite  unexpected  to  me.  When  dressed  for  a 
party,  I  was  turned  to  the  light  this  way  and  that ;  the 
satin  shoe,  and  the  kid  glove,  and  the  pearl  sprig  in  my 
hair  were  examined  ;  and,  if  all  was  comme  il  faut,  he 
patted  me  on  the  cheek  and  said,  "  That  will  do."  And 
let  me  pause  and  record  gratefully  his  judicious  instruc- 
tions on  dress,  on  which  subject  he  was  uniformly  seri- 
ous. 

"  Do  not  imagine,  my  daughter,1'  he  said,  "  that  you 
are  agreeable  or  attractive  when  your  person  is  exposed, 
or  when  you  aid  nature  by  artificial  means.  Two  classes 
of  persons  may  gaze  on  you,  to  be  sure  ;  the  immoral 
and  licentious  with  familiarity,  the  reflecting  and  serious 
with  sadness.  Will  you  consent  to  such  scrutiny  1  Fol- 
low fashion  no  further  than  fashion  follows  propriety. 
Never  let  your  mantuamaker  dictate  to  your  morals." 

It  is  one  of  the  quiet  joys  of  memory,  that  I  never  dis* 
obeyed  his  injunctions. 

Anna  and  I  had  attended  no  public  assemblies,  papa 
not  being  able  to  accompany  us.  We  had  his  promise 
for  the  race-ball.     He  was  something  of  a  jockey,  and 


112  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

had  a  direct  interest  in  the  races  of  the  season.  It  wag 
with  no  small  care  that  he  fitted  out  his  equipage  for  the 
races,  mamma  having  no  interest  in  such  things.  It  was 
in  perfect  taste  ;  not  so  conspicuous  as  to  excite  atten- 
tion, but,  when  attention  was  called,  fixing  it  by  an  air 
of  perfect  fitness.  Anna's  dress  and  mine  were  his 
choice  too.  Most  of  the  ladies  appeared  in  dress  bon- 
nets and  gay  costume,  scarcely  appropriate  to  the  season 
and  the  amusement.  We  were  habited  in  close,  dark 
riding-dresses,  with  hat  and  feathers.  Nothing  could  look 
prettier  than  Anna's  light  figure.  The  fresh  breeze,  too, 
tinged  her  delicate  cheek  and  brightened  her  placid  eye3 
as  we  drove  along. 

Papa  rode  on  horseback  ;  and  our  only  companion  was 
a  city  belle,  an  experienced  one,  who  dared  to  laugh  when 
she  wished  to,  and  sometimes  oftener  and  louder  than 
was  necessary.  She  seemed  to  know  everybody,  and 
staked  sugarplums  and  gloves  by  the  dozen  with  every 
challenger,  without  looking  at  the  horses. 

We  were  delayed  on  our  arrival  by  papa,  who  could 
not  immediately  wait  on  us  to  the  stand.  Anna  and  I 
shrank  back  timidly,  half  envying  Miss  Lawton's  nods, 
and  smiles,  and  ready  words  to  her  passing  acquaintance. 

"  Look,  girls,  at  that  splendid  equipage  of  Captain 
Redding,  there  on  the  right,  with  the  outriders  in  yellow  ! 
Heavens  !  what  a  fright  of  a  hat  Bell  Wilson  has  on ! 
How  can  her  mother  let  her  make  such  an  object  of  her- 
self! Ah,  cousin  Edward,  how  are  you?  Miss  Wilton 
— Miss  Allston — Mr.  Simons.  New  housings  for  the 
occasion,  I  see.  Who  are  you  for?  don't  ask  me  to  bet; 
I  have  risked  all  my  pocket-money  now  on  Colonel  Wil- 
ton's Psyche.  For  mercy's  sake,  look  at  the  Farwells  ! 
what  has  brought  them  out  1  Heaven  keep  Psyche  from 
a  look  at  those  girls  !  she  will  certainly  sheer,  and  I  shall 
lose  my  gloves.  Ah,  Arthur  Marion  returned  ?  Move 
away,  Edward,"  continued  she,  as  a  young  man  rode  up 
and  extended  his  hand  to  Miss  Lawton.  There  was  a 
glittering  ring  on  that  hand.     It  was  mine. 

"  Mr.  Marion,"  said  Miss  Lawton,  "  we  are  all  for  the 
Wilton  interest  here.     Let  me  introduce  you  to — "     At 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  113 

this  moment  the  pressure  of  the  crowd  forced  him  on. 
He  kissed  his  hand  and  bowed,  and  a  sunbeam  fell  on 
his  jewelled  finger  as  he  disappeared  in  the  throng. 

Papa  came,  and  conducted  Anna  and  myself  to  the 
stand  ;  while  Miss  Lawton,  laughing  in  pretended  per- 
plexity at  whose  arm  she  should  select  among  her  many 
beaux,  lightly  followed. 

It  was  droll  enough  to  hear  the  changes  that  were 
rung  on  Psyche's  name  as  she  was  led  forth;  even  the 
newspaper  was  resorted  to  to  spell  it.  One  called  her 
Pyke,  another  Syke,  another  Switchey.  A  countryman 
who  had  bet  upon  her  called  out,  "  Hurra  for  Pikery  !" 
A  gentleman,  quite  at  fault,  made  a  practical  pun  by 
sneezing  instead  of  pronouncing  her  name,  while  another 
cried,  "  Physic  !   Physic  for  ever  !" 

Those  who  doubt  the  morality  of  a  horse-race,  or  who 
have  never  witnessed  one,  will  scarcely  be  able  to  un- 
derstand the  feelings  of  a  young  girl  who  has  been 
brought  up  in  a  kind  of  companionship  with  these  noble 
creatures,  under  circumstances  like  mine,  as  the  bugle 
sounded  the  preparatory  note ;  and  it  may  excite  a  smile 
in  those  who  regard  the  sport  as  low  and  vulgar ;  but, 
from  the  moment  papa's  beautiful  Psyche  started,  at  the 
tap  of  the  drum,  my  breath  seemed  suspended,  and  my 
eyes  followed  her  as  if  she  were  the  only  living  thing  in 
existence.  Darting  like  a  sunbeam,  she  pressed  on ;  as 
she  approached  in  the  first  heat  in  advance  of  her  rival, 
I  unconsciously  stood  up  to  urge  her  on  her  way ;  and 
when,  unflagging  and  triumphant,  she  bounded  to  the 
goal,  I  shouted  aloud,  though  unheard  amid  the  cheers, 
and  tears,  I  must  confess  it,  started  to  my  eyes.. 
K2 


114  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


AN  ALARM. RETURN  FROM  THE  RACES. JOCKEY  CLCB 

BALL. 

"  Grim-visaged  -vice  with  all  her  hydra  race, 
And  antic  folly  with  her  rude  grimace, 
And  all  the  arts  that  cunning  gamesters  know, 
And  all  the  practice  of  the  fiends  below, 
Here  yield  a  theme  that  other  bards  may  try." 

Craft's  Raciad. 

A  heav'nly  image  in  the  glass  appears, 
To  that  she  bends,  to  that  her  eyes  she  rears, 
The  inferior  priestess  at  her  altar's  side, 
Trembling,  begins  the  sacred  rites  of  pride." 

Pope. 

"  Some  with  the  ladies  in  the  ball-room  ply 
Their  bounding  elasticity  of  heel, 
Evolving,  as  they  trip  it  whirlingly, 

The  merry  mazes  of  th'  entangled  reel." 

Anster  Fair. 

The  races  were  over ;  papa  led  us  to  our  carriage  ; 
and  Miss  Lawton  was  counting  her  triumphs,  on  her 
ringers,  to  the  beaux  who,  with  prancing  steeds,  lingered 
by  her ;  when,  on  looking  in  idle  curiosity  at  the  throng, 
I  perceived  Jim,  near  where  our  carriage  was  stationed, 
with  my  little  brother  Ben  by  his  side. 

Negroes  love  the  excitement  of  any  public  spectacle ; 
and  they  are  indulged  so  much  as  to  become  almost  a 
nuisance  in  pressing  around  military  and  other  displays. 
They  often  carry  a  white  child  for  more  perfect  security  ; 
and  there  is  in  a  Southern  crowd  a  curious  contrast  between 
the  fair,  careless  faces  of  infants  held  high  in  their  nurse's 
arms,  and  the  bronzed,  eager  countenances  of  those  who 
attend  them.  Now  and  then  a  guard  appears  ;  and  they 
dodge,  and  scamper,  and  disperse,  for  a  few  moments, 
like  a  flock  of  sheep,  with  shouts  and  often  laughter  ;  but 
only  to  return  again  with  the  same  eagerness  as  before. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  115 

Jim,  with  a  new  cap  set  a  little  on  one  side,  was,  at 
that  moment,  one  of  the  most  glorified  beings  in  exist- 
ence. His  eyes  seemed  to  drink  in  the  scene  ;  his  wide 
mouth  developing  a  set  of  teeth  as  expressive  as  any  fea- 
tures ;  and  while  he  held  Ben  in  one  hand,  he  was  beat- 
ing time  with  the  other  against  his  thigh  to  the  music  of 
a  distant  fiddle.  Ben  was  equally  enraptured  ;  forgetting 
his  fine  new  clothes,  in  which  he  had  been  trammelled  in 
the  morning,  he  trotted  along  by  Jim's  side,  asking  and 
answering  eager  questions.  They  caught  a  glimpse  of 
us,  and  were  hastening  to  the  carriage,  when  the  horses 
that  were  attached  to  a  vehicle  behind  started,  plunged, 
reared,  and  pressed  on  the  alarmed  crowd.  Instead  of 
retreating,  Jim  attempted  to  cross  to  us.  I  saw  the 
horses  dash  on — I  saw  Ben  fall,  and  my  eyes  closed  in 
a  kind  of  despair.  I  was  roused  instantly  by  a  shout  of 
joy  and  approbation  from  the  crowd ;  and  in  a  moment 
perceived  Ben  clasping,  with  a  strong  and  almost  convul- 
sive energy,  the  neck  of  Lewis — our  dear  Lewis  Barn- 
well. 

Leaving  his  horse  with  his  servant,  he  sprang  into  the 
carriage  ;  and  in  a  moment  his  joyous,  careless  spirits, 
free  as  if  nothing  had  occurred,  were  illuminating  every 
object  which  they  glanced  npon. 

"  Heart-whole,  Cornelia,"  said  he,  knocking  on  his 
breast  playfully.  "  Those  red-cheeked  Connecticut  girls 
cured  my  wounds  in  a  month.  I  visited  poor  Duncan, 
too,"  continued  he  (while  a  tender  sadness,  that  made 
him  doubly  handsome,  shaded  his  happy  eyes),  "  and  I 
learned  lessons  which  only  the  grave  teaches.  Do  you 
know  that  I  almost  envied  him  that  melting  away  to  death, 
and  that  quiet  rest  where  the  snow-flakes  are  lying  in 
coldness  and  in  purity  1  I  fear  my  spirit"  (and  he  spoke 
almost  prophetically)  "  will  wrestle  fearfully  with  the 
destroying  angel.  But  how  you  have  improved,  Miss 
Wilton,'1''  he  exclaimed,  not  minding  a  blush  that  rose  and 
covered  even  my  forehead  with  the  glow — "  I  suppose  I 
must  read — for  a  fawn-like,  romping  country-lassie,  a 
graceful,  polished  city  belle  !  Miss  Lawton,  do  not  let 
her  be  spoiled,  if  you  are  her  friend.     I  hate  a  regular 


316  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

belle  as  I  do  a  green  persimmon.  Calculating  all  night, 
and  dressing  all  day,  their  hearts  get  beaten  up  by  the 
world  like  grist  in  a  mortar  ;  and  when  a  man  marries  a 
woman,  he  gets  a  body  without  a  soul,  and  sometimes  a 
dress  without  a  body.  Miss  Lawton,  I  am  sure  you  are 
not  a  professed  belle,  or  you  would  not  blush  so  becom- 
ingly ;  and  Miss  Allston" — he  paused — there  was  some- 
thing too  spiritually  soft  in  those  full  eyes  for  trifling. 
Lewis  gave  her  one  long,  earnest  look,  longer  than  pro- 
priety warranted  ;  as  if  to  read  through  those  beautiful 
windows  the  volume  of  her  soul.  Her  sweet  tranqui- 
lity was  undisturbed  ;  no  alarm  or  consciousness  was  on 
her  brow  ;  yet,  as  she  quietly  withdrew  her  glance  from 
his,  her  cheek  faintly  glowed,  like  the  surface  of  an  un- 
ruffled lake,  when  the  twilight  sky  looks  down  without  a 
cloud. 

And  now  rolled  back  that  varied  throng  ;  and  the  wa- 
ters of  Canonsborough  reflected  the  gay  housings  of  return- 
ing steeds,  the  richly-panelled  carriages,  and  the  float- 
ing veils  of  beauty ;  while  the  earnest  voice  of  the  ges- 
ticulating negro — the  oath  of  the  sailor — the  prattle  of 
childhood — the  ambitious  crack  of  the  coachman's  whip 
— and  the  shrill  laugh  of  the  fair,  mingled  and  floated  ou 
the  wind. 

I  did  not  ask  myself  then,  as  I  now  do,  if  all  this 
seeming  was  true ;  I  did  not  speculate  on  the  pouting  lip 
pf  disappointed  beauty,  which  had  been,  perchance, 
slighted  and  forgotten ;  1  did  not  perceive,  in  some  dark 
and  moody  individual,  the  loser  of  thousands,  nor  detect 
beneath  a  gayer  tone  a  fiercer  pang  ;  I  did  not  return  in 
imagination  to  the  ground,  and  trace  the  votaries  of  de- 
bauchery and  drunkenness,  in  their  unholy  pleasures,  nor 
follow  the  revellers  to  homes  where  anxious  wives  and 
hungry  children  awaited,  but  without  hope,  their  return. 


The  dress  for  the  first  ball !  Who  shall  describe  its 
infinite  importance  ?  As  Flora  laid  mine,  article  by  arti- 
cle, on  the  bed  after  dinner,  and  Cely,  Anna's  maid,  with 
laudable  rivalry,  did  the  same,  how  admiringly  we  gazed 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  117 

how  we  folded  every  plait  in  the  silky  gauze,  smoothed 
every  wrinkle  in  the  glossy  satin,  and  measured  the  lit- 
tle slipper,  until,  wearied  with  the  completeness  of  prep- 
aration, we  sank  into  ennui  until  evening. 

Perhaps  there  is  nothing  more  ridiculous  than  the  pains 
bestowed  on  the  arrangement  of  an  article  of  dress  com- 
pared with  its  effect. 

"  Bring  another  light,  Cely,"  said  Anna  to  her  maid,  as 
she  stood  before  her  toilet,  in  an  important  tone. 

It  was   placed  beside   the  other,  near  the,  dressing- 
glass,  but  my  grave  cousin  was  not  satisfied. 
"  Another,  Cely." 

It  was  brought,  and  arranged  anew,  before  the  focus  of 
rays  was  right  for  the  true  development. 

"  Now,  Cely,"  said  she,  with  a  business  voice,  "  put 
this  last  pin  in  my  sash."  It  was  done — the  last  pin  ! 
and  Anna  Allston  stood  before  her  mirror  the  image  of 
youthful  beauty  ;  and  Cely  looked  at  her  mistress  with  a 
satisfied  gaze,  and  folded  her  arms,  for  her  task  was 
done. 

We  went  down  stairs,  not,  as  usual,  with  springing 
steps  and  interlacing  arms,  whispering  sweet  confidence, 
but  stiff  and  conscious,  followed  by  Flora  and  Cely.  As 
we  passed  two  of  the  negroes  in  the  dining-room,  one  of 
them  said, 

"  Ki,  Miss  Neely  look  more  prettier  dan  Miss  Anna, 
for  true  !" 

And,  for  an  instant,  as  I  passed  the  mirror,  and  saw 
the  heightened  glow  on  my  cheek  contrasted  with  her 
paler  hue,  I  thought  so  too  ;  but,  as  I  looked  at  her  again, 
the  vanity  passed  away ;  for  how  could  any  combination 
of  flesh  and  blood  compete  with  the  refined  loveliness 
that  floated  about  and  around  her  like  a  silver-edged 
cloud  ? 

Mamma  was  dressed,  for  papa  had  insisted  on  her  in- 
troducing us  in  public.  I  scarcely  knew  my  dear,  quiet, 
comfortable  mother  in  the  plum-coloured  satin  dress,  ex- 
alted turban,  and  waving  feathers,  with  which  she  was 
arrayed.  Chloe  stood  looking  more  important  than  ever 
behind  her  chair.     We  were  dressed  too  early,  and  were 


118  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A 

beginning  to  feel  the  weariness  consequent  on  such  a 
circumstance,  when  Lewis  Barnwell  was  announced. 
Such  a  companion  is  a  golden  treasure — a  half  hour  be- 
fore a  ball. 

The  carriages  began  to  roll  through  Broad-street. 
Neither  Chloe,  Flora,  nor  Cely  would  allow  Lewis  to 
wrap  us  in  our  shawls,  but  laid  them  with  peculiar  cau- 
tion on  our  shoulders.  He  entered  the  carriage,  and 
went  with  us  to  the  hall,  where,  with  a  tragic  gesture  of 
regret,  for  he  was  not  a  member  of  the  Jockey  Club,  he 
left  us  to  the  care  of  the  managers. 

Shy  and  fluttered,  we  followed  mamma  up  the  broad 
stairs,  and  half  shrank  back  as  the  light  of  the  chandeliers 
burst  upon  us  ;  and  the  seats  looked  a  mile  off  as  we 
trod  over  the  chalked  horses  on  the  floor ;  and  a  thrilling 
joy  woke  up  in  us  as  the  band  struck  a  full  accompani- 
ment. 

When  seated  in  such  a  scene,  one  gradually  finds  one's 
own  relative  importance.  Mamma's  plum-coloured  satin 
and  feather  no  longer  seemed  to  me  the  ne  plus  ultra  of 
dress,  when  I  observed  the  row  of  brilliant-looking  ladies 
who  lined  the  room ;  and  Anna  and  I  shrivelled  up  into 
almost  nothingness,  as  peeping,  without  partners,  from 
behind  a  cotillon-set,  we  saw  the  easy,  graceful,  prac- 
tised forms  of  the  city  belles. 

Papa  brought  up  several  oldish  country  gentlemen  to 
speak  to  us,  who  joked  about  their  dancing  days  being 
over !  and  the  managers,  after  a  while,  succeeded  in  ob- 
taining two  strangers  for  our  partners  in  a  cotillon.  Anna's 
nearly  tore  her  gauze  frock  in  his  ambitious  leaps  ;  and 
mine,  not  knowing  the  figures,  raced  after  me  like  anoth- 
er Theseus  following  his  Ariadne,  and  breathed  a  puff  of 
self-congratulation  when  the  order  "  partner  round''''  gave 
him  an  acknowledged  right  to  seize  me. 

Anna  and  1  glanced  at  each  other  with  a  smile  as  the 
gentlemen  retired ;  but  we  had  danced,  and  that  was 
something. 

"  Take  your  partners  for  another  cotillon,"  said  the  man- 
agers ;  and  partners  were  taken,  but  not  Anna  and  I. 
Another  and  another  was  called,  and  everybody  seemed 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  119 

conversing  except  us.  Where  were  Anna's  and  my  long, 
long  talks,  when  words  came  out  quick  and  gay  like 
the  song  of  birds  ?  Mamma  was  half  off  in  a  dozy  slum- 
ber, and  the  oldish  gentlemen  had  gone  to  the  card-room. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  I  to  Anna,  with  a  sigh,  "  if  we  were 
only  at  Roseland  with  Diggory's  fiddle  !" 

"  I  never  will  come  to  another  ball,"  said  Anna,  with 
more  acrimony  than  she  was  wont  to  show. 

At  this  crisis  a  set  was  forming  directly  in  front  of  us  ; 
and  leading  a  graceful  girl,  who  listened  and  smiled  as  he 
spoke,  came  Arthur  Marion.  I  saw  him  glance  at  our 
group  like  one  who  did  not  feel  quite  assured  of  know- 
ing the  individuals  there  ;  and  then,  as  if  decided  in  the 
negative,  turn  away  to  his  partner.  A  doubtful  expres- 
sion once  crossed  his  face  as  he  met  my  eyes  in  dancing ; 
but  it  passed  off  and  did  not  return. 

I  had  sat  so  long  neglected  that  my  nerves  became 
excited.  I  felt  as  if  I  was  mocked ;  the  sensation  of 
anger  which  had  agitated  me  at  church  returned.  The 
music  sounded  harsh  and  grating — I  would  have  closed 
my  ears  ;  I  felt  as  if  I  should  scream,  or  weep,  or  grasp 
at  something  violently,  and  yet  I  sat  like  a  statue.  How 
often  have  such  scenes  of  light  and  joy  shone  on  aching 
hearts  S  Mr.  Marion's  partner  dropped  her  handkerchief,, 
and  as  he  drew  off  his  glove  to  present  it  to  her,  the 
blaze  of  the  chandelier  fell  on  my  ring.  A  reaction  took 
place  ;  I  became,  I  know  not  why,  tranquil ;  but  the  forms 
in  the  dance  were  dreamy,  and  I  seemed  to  be  in  another 
sphere. 

The  supper-hour  arrived.  No  Adonis  of  my  imagina- 
tion, but  old  Mr.  Guild-street,  waited  on  me.  Mamma 
revived  from  heT  drowsiness  as  we  seated  ourselves  be- 
neath the  evergreen  arbours  at  the  table,  which  was 
spread  with  every  luxury.  The  cotillon-set  of  Arthur 
Marion  had  preceded  us  ;  his  fair  partner  was  by  my  side. 
What  a  contrast  was  that  brilliant,  easy,  talkative  coterie 
to  ours  !  I  evaded  Marion's  eye  irresistibly  whenever 
it  sought  mine. 

"  Marion,"  said  a  youth  on  his  right,  "  Miss  Saunders 
has  challenged  me  to  remember  her  gloves  to-morrow  ; 
lend  me  your  ring  as  a  talisman." 


i20  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

I  started  as  if  a  pistol  had  been  fired  off. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Marion,  laughing  ;  "  none  but  the 
owner  of  this  ring  shall  take  it  from  my  finger." 

"  Miss  Saunders,"  said  the  first  speaker,  "  do  you 
know  the  history  of  that  ring  J" 

"  No,"  said  a  sweet  voice  beyond  ;  "  pray  tell  it  me." 

"  I  protest,"  said  Marion,  "  against  Elliot's  relating  it ; 
if  it  must  be  known,  I  will  tell  it." 

"  No,"  said  the  sweet  voice,  "  Mr.  Elliot  shall  tell  the 
tale.     He  looks  ripe  for  it." 

And  Mr.  Elliot  began,  with  infinite  humour,  to  describe 
the  adventure. 

In  vain  Marion  again  protested,  and  grew  grave  in  his 
tone,  and  once  spoke  almost  in  anger  ;  Elliot  went  on  in 
his  irresistible  drollery ;  and  when  he  imitated  "  Hoist  she 
up  dis  way,  maussa,"  and  described  my  mud-caked  face, 
as  I  turned  to  make  my  parting  bow,  even  Marion's  grav- 
ity was  conquered  ;  and  such  a  peal  of  laughter  rang  out 
from  the  group,  as  made  papa  and  Mr.  Guildstreet,  who 
had  heard  none  of  the  conversation,  push  aside  their 
plates  of  oysters  for  a  moment  ere  they  returned  to  the 
onslaught. 

I  could  have  cried  outright ;  my  head  throbbed  ;  my 
heart  beat  as  if  it  would  have  flown  from  my  bosom  ;  my 
ears  tingled ;  and  that  laugh  seemed  multiplied  to  an  in- 
finitude. I  could  not  divest  myself  of  the  idea  that  I 
was  known  and  ridiculed  ;  and  I  entreated  papa,  with  an 
earnestness  that  surprised  him,  to  hurry  home. 

I  was  obliged  to  climb  over  the  seat,  which  was  not 
moveable  ;  and  Marion,  in  common  courtesy,  offered  his 
hand.  He  perceived  my  extreme  agitation  (for  I  trem- 
bled excessively,  and  almost  thought  I  should  have  fallen) ; 
regarded  me  with  an  expression  of  interest  and  sympa- 
thy ;  and  when  a  servant  brought  my  shawl,  respectfully 
placed  it  on  my  shoulders,  while  my  thank  you,  sir,  was 
as  indistinct  as  when  my  mouth  was  full  of  mud. 

"  Allow  me  to  forestall  the  managers,  and  accompany 
you  to  your  carriage,"  said  he. 

But  old  Mr.  Guildstreet  bustled  over  the  seat,  and  of 
fered  his  arm — Marion  retired. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  121 


"  Undress  me,  Flora,"  said  I,  pressing  my  hand  to  my 
throbbing  head  as  we  reached  our  bedroom,  where  our 
maids  were  waiting  for  us. 

"  Miss  Neely,"  exclaimed  Flora,  "  how  you  been  trow 
yourself  down  on  de  chair  so  hasty  !  Ycu  been  marsh 
you  frock  all  up  to  nottin." 

"  And  jus  look  how  Miss  Anna  fling  down  she  brace- 
let, like  it  an't  wort,"*  cried  Cely,  picking  up  the  jewel 
and  depositing  it  in  its  case. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

MUSIC. ESSAY    AT    HOUSEKEEPING— FORTUNE-TELLER. 

"  Is  Rosaline,  whom  thou  didst  love  so  dear, 
So  soon  forsaken  ?    Young  men's  love  then  lies, 
Not  truly  in  their  hearts,  but  in  their  eyes." 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

"  First  loves  are  not  necessarily  more  foolish  than  others,  but  the 
chances  are  certainly  against  them.  Proximity  of  time  or  place,  a 
variety  of  accidental  circumstances,  more  than  the  essential  merits 
of  the  object,  often  produce  what  is  called  first  love." 

Maria  Edgeworth. 

"  I  sat 
And  took  my' coffee  with  my  guest." 

Goethe's  Hermann  and  Dorothea. 

It  is  pleasant  to  watch  the  opening  of  young  and  pure 
affections.  Anna's  heart  was  hanging  like  a  bud  on  its 
stalk ;  petal  after  petal  expanded,  till  it  lay  with  its  rich 
developments  beneath  the  eye  of  love  ;  the  sun  warmed, 
the  breeze  fanned,  the  dew  nourished  it,  and  Lewis  was 
to  her  the  sun,  the  breeze,  the  dew. 

Borne  away  by  his  intense  admiration  of  personal 
beauty,  he  was  irresistibly  attracted  ;  and,  day  after  day, 
Anna's  loveliness  and  simplicity  beguiled  him  almost  un- 

*  Worth  anything. 
L 


122  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

knowingly  into  stronger  sentiments.  We  were  soon  in 
each  other's  confidence,  for  the  habits  of  our  childhood 
were  renewed,  and  he  often  playfully  reverted  to  the  past. 
He  retained  the  same  virtues  and  faults  as  formerly. 
High-souled  and  generous,  but  thoughtless  and  passion- 
ate, he  was  governed  by  the  most  sudden  impulses  to 
right  and  wrong,  yet  ever  repenting  heartily  of  excesses. 
As  I  perceived  Anna's  affections  gradually,  though  un- 
known to  herself,  leaning  towards  him,  I  trembled  for 
her ;  but  when  I  saw  her  delicate  will  turning  by  a  look 
the  course  of  his  passions,  I  was  comforted,  and  I  said 
to  him — 

"  Oh,  Lewis,  thus  may  it  ever  be  !  Let  that  small  fair 
hand  lay  on  the  helm,  and  trust  your  bark  to  her." 

The  eyes  of  Lewis  never  wandered  from  Anna  as  she 
stood  at  her  harp,  or  played  the  guitar,  or  gave  to  a  few 
simple  chords  on  the  pianoforte  a  charm  and  tenderness 
peculiar  to  her  touch ;  and  well  might  he  gaze,  for  she 
realized  the  dreams  of  poesy  ;  well  might  he  listen  as  a 
mortal  would  listen  to  the  tones  of  a  tuneful  cherub. 
Besides  the  charm  of  grace  and  native  harmony,  Anna 
excelled  in  what  may  be  termed  intellectual  music,  giving 
force  and  beauty  to  melody  by  distinct  pronunciation. 
When  she  closed  her  songs,  no  one  had  to  ask,  as  is 
often  the  case,  What  song  is  that  ]  The  words  had  gone 
down  to  the  hearts  of  her  listeners,  and  told  their  own 
r-, story.  She  seemed  determined  to  do  justice  to  the  poet 
as  well  as  the  musician,  and  every  sentiment  was  brought 
out  like  a  beautiful  picture. 

Persons  who  pronounce  distinctly  rarely  sing  ridiculous 
words,  and  this  just  taste  is  rewarded  by  eager  and  de- 
lightened  listeners.  Ballad-singing  on  this  principle  af- 
fords exquisite  pleasure  ;  if  poetry  and  music  are  each 
so  charming  in  themselves,  how  delicious  the  marriage 
of  poetry  and  music  ! 

There  is  as  much  difference  in  hearing  the  following 
line  from  the  lips  of  two  different  singers,  as  there  is  in 
the  printed  arrangement : — 

"  To  shield  thee,  to  save  thee,  or  perish  there  too." 
Toshieldtheetosavetheeorperishtheretoo. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON,  123 

Correct  pronunciation  is  equally  important  with  distinct 
emphasis.  When  Moore's  song,  "  I  knew  by  the  smoke," 
was  in  fashion,  I  was  puzzled  to  know  what  a  singer 
meant  by 

"  An  art  that  is  umble,  might  ope  for  it  ere." 

A  lady,  on  one  occasion,  after  Anna's  bewitching  per- 
formance, displayed  the  most  singular  perversity  in  her 
pronunciation  of  v  and  w ;  the  song,  unfortunately,  was 
the  very  ne  plus  ultra  of  v  and  iv  ism — the  exquisite  Vale 
of  Avoca.     She  sang — 

"  There  is  not  in  the  vide  vorld  a  walley  so  sweet, 
As  the  wale  in  whose  bosom  the  bright  waters  meet ! 

Sweet  tvale  of  Awoca,  how  calm  could  I  rest 

In  thy  wialley  of  shade  with  the  friend  I  love  best, 

Vere  the  cares  vich  ve  meet  in  this  cold  ■uorld  should  cease, 

And  our  hearts,  like  thy  waters,  be  mingled  in  peace." 

Music  and  romance  were  partially  interrupted,  for 
mamma  was  obliged  by  pressing  business  to  return  to 
Roseland,  and  inhabit  the  finished  apartments  of  the  new 
house.  She  was  not  sorry  at  heart ;  she  longed  to  be 
once  more  gazing  on  the  ducks  and  turkeys,  and  superin- 
tending her  dairy,  with  the  range  of  other  country  occu- 
pations, and  thus  T  was  left  in  the  town  establishment. 
The  division  of  servants  caused  some  embarrassment. 
Mamma's  fixed  habits  and  liability  to  visiters  rendered  it 
necessary  that  she  should  retain  many  of  them.  Papa 
had  always  one  or  two  employed  ;  the  consequence  was, 
that,  though  amply  supplied  with  new  recruits  from  the 
country,  there  seemed  to  be  great  doubt  about  their 
quality. 

That  I  might  feel  perfectly  easy  on  one  point,  papa 
bought  a  professed  French  cook,  who  was  advertised  in 
the  papers,  and,  according  to  his  frequent  custom,  brought 
home  two  gentlemen  to  dine  the  very  day  mamma  went 
away.  There  had  been  so  much  regularity  in  our  family 
heretofore,  that  I  should  as  soon  have  thought  of  interfe- 
ring with  the  solar  system  as  with  the  routbie  of  the 
kitchen,  and  I  felt  perfectly  at  ease  when  summoned  to 
the  dining-room. 


124  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

As  I  dipped  the  ladle  into  the  tureen,  and  saw,  instead 
of  the  usual  richly-concocted  turtle-soup,  a  few  pieces 
of  meat  in  a  thin  reddish  fluid,  sailing  about  like  small 
craft  in  an  open  bay,  my  mind  misgave  me  ;  but,  knowing 
little  of  such  matters,  I  helped  round. 

"  What  is  this !"  said  papa,  as  he  elevated  a  spoonful, 
and  let  it  drop  back  into  his  plate. 

No  one  spake. 

"  In  the  name  of  common  sense,  Mark,"  said  he,  in  a 
louder  tone  to  one  of  the  servants,  "  what  have  we  got 
here  1" 

"  Cuffee  call  'em  French  bully,  sir,"  said  Mark,  bow- 
ing, and  trying  to  keep  his  countenance. 

"  French  fire  !"  shouted  papa,  dislodging  a  mouthful 
into  the  grate  ;  "  my  tongue  is  in  a  flame  !  Gentlemen, 
for  Heaven's  sake,  put  down  your  spoons,  and  don't  be 
martyred  through  politeness.  Mark,  tell  Cuffee,  with  my 
compliments,  to  eat  it  all,  or  he  gets  no  Sunday  money." 

The  soup  was  taken  away,  and  the  covers  removed, 
when,  lo  !  there  stood  before  papa  a  pig  on  his  four  feet, 
with  a  lemon  between  his  teeth,  and  a  string  of  sausages 
round  his  neck.     His  grin  was  horrible. 

Before  me,  though  at  the  head  of  many  delicacies  pro- 
vided by  papa,  was  an  immense  field  of  hopping  John  ;* 
a  good  dish,  to  be  sure,  but  no  more  presentable  to 
strangers  at  the  South  than  baked  beans  and  pork  in 
New-England.  I  had  not  self-possession  to  joke  about 
the  unsightly  dish,  nor  courage  to  offer  it.  I  glanced  at 
papa. 

"What  is  that  mountain  before  you,  my  daughter]" 
said  papa,  looking  comically  over  his  pig. 

"  Ossa  on  Pelion,"  said  Lewis,  laughing,  and  pointing 
at  the  almost  bare  bones  that  surmounted  the  rice. 
****** 

Have  housekeepers  never  found  that  conversation  has 
often  taken  a  turn  which  seemed  doubly  to  aggravate 
after  misfortunes  % 

The  subject  of  coffee  was  discussed  at  dinner  in  all 

*  Bacon  and  rice. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  125 

its  various  bearings ;  our  guests  were  Europeans,  and 
evidently  au  fait  in  its  mysteries.  One  contended  for 
Mocha,  the  other  for  Java  ;  one  was  for  infusion,  another 
for  decoction.  The  greatest  traveller  had  drank  it  in 
Turkey,  and  seen  persons  employed  in  watching  it  "while 
it  w-as  parching  on  tin  plates,  who  took  out  each  separate 
bean  as  it  became  brown  enough ;  he  argued  that  it 
should  be  pounded,  not  ground. 

The  other  thought,  and  he  thumped  the  table  to  add 
force  to  his  assertion,  that  the  French  must  have  arrived 
at  greater  perfection  than  the  Asiatics  in  this  delicious 
beverage ;  and  his  eyes  sparkled  as  if  he  were  under  its 
influence,  as  he  described  its  richness  and  flavour  when 
taken  from  the  hands  of  a  pretty  limonadiere  at  the  Cafe 
des  Mille  Colonnes  at  Paris. 

Papa  threw  down  his  gauntlet  for  home-made  coffee, 
and  boasted  (papa  sometimes  boasted  a  little)  of  his  last 
purchase  of  Mocha,  and  the  superior  skill  with  which  it 
was  made  by  Kate,  who  usually  superintended  it. 

The  conversation  was  prolonged  throughout  the  sitting  ; 
indeed,  until  the  beverage  appeared  in  the  drawing-room 
to  assert'  its  own  claims,  with  its  rich  brown  hue,  its  de- 
lightful perfume,  and  the  vapour  curling  in  beautiful 
wreaths  from  the  gilt  cups.  As  papa  dipped  his  spoon 
in  his  cup,  a  glance  told  him  that  the  chymical  affinities 
were  all  rightly  adjusted  to  the  palate.  It  was  tasted — 
augh !  There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  Lewis  looked 
ready  for  laughter;  Anna  and  I  were  distressed;  papa  was 
angry ;  and  our  guests,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  car- 
pet, were  doubtless  ruminating  on  Turkey  and  France. 
The  taste  was  so  utterly  abominable,  that  papa  was 
alarmed,  and  summoned  Kate. 

"  Kate,"  said  papa,  "  what  have  you  put  in  the  coffee  V 

"  Me  an't  put  nottin  'tall  in  'em,  sir.  He  mak  like  he 
always  been  mak." 

"  Did  you  grind  or  pound  it  V 

"  He  de  poun',  sir." 

"Zn  what?" 

"In  de  mortar,  sir." 

"  Go  and  ask  the  cook  what  was  in  the  mortar." 
L2 


126  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 

Little  was  said  during  Kate's  absence  ;  we  sat  as  sol- 
emn as  members  of  the  Inquisition.     Kate  entered. 

"  De  cook  say  he  spec'  he  lef  leettle  bit  pepper  and 
salt  in  de  mortar." 

Our  visiters  soon  departed,  probably  minuting  on  their 
journals  that  Americans  season  their  coffee  with  pepper 
and  salt. 

The  cook  was  then  summoned  to  his  trial.  Papa  eyed 
him  sternly,  and  said, 

"  You  call  yourself  a  French  cook,  do  you  V 

"  No,  sir ;  maussa  and  de  'vertise  call  me  French  cook. 
I  follows  de  mason  trade,  but  didn't  want  to  disoblige 
nobody." 

In  the  sequel,  Cuffee  repaired  our  dilapidated  chimneys, 
while  a  less  pretending  cook  performed  her  duties  better. 

The  distance  of  the  kitchen  from  the  house  at  the 
South  often  repulses  housekeepers,  both  in  cold  and 
warm  weather,  from  visiting  it  frequently ;  indeed,  a 
young  woman  often  feels  herself  an  intruder,  and  as  if 
she  had  but  half  a  right  to  pry  into  the  affairs  of  the  ne- 
groes in  the  yard.  In  my  rare  visits,  I  was  struck  by 
one  mode  of  fattening  poultry.  Two  fine-looking  tur- 
keys were  always  kept  tied  to  a  part  of  the  dresser,  and 
fed  by  the  cook,  who  talked  to  them  by  name,  partly  as 
pets  and  partly  as  victims,  as  they  picked  up  the  crumbs 
at  her  feet.  On  another  occasion,  I  found  her  applying 
a  live  coal  to  the  tail  of  a  turtle ;  I  exclaimed  against 
her  cruelty. 

"  He  too  stubborn,  Miss  Neely." 

As  she  spoke  he  put  out  his  head,  which  was  her  ob- 
ject, and  a  sharp  knife  being  near,  terminated  his  troubles 
by  decapitation. 

Some  of  the  mistakes  that  occurred  in  mamma's  ab- 
sence were  as  ludicrous  as  mortifying. 

One  day,  as  a  field-boy  was  scrubbing  the  entry  leading 
to  the  street  door,  I  heard  his  voice  in  pretty  strong  re- 
monstrance. Supposing  him  to  be  talking  with  a  fellow- 
servant,  I  took  no  notice  of  it  until  I  heard  him  roar  out 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  in  a  tremendous  passion — 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  127 

"  Miss  Neely,  one  buckra  woman  want  for  track  up 
all  de  clean  floor." 

I  ran  down  as  rapidly  as  I  could,  and  found  the  elegant 
Miss  Lawton  on  the  off  side  of  his  tub  of  water,  held  in 
abeyance  by  Titus's  scrubbing-brush. 

The  social  and  agreeable  habit  of  calling  at  tea-time 
is  almost  peculiar  to  Charleston.  One  evening,  having 
several  extra  guests,  Titus  was  summoned  to  carry  the 
cake-tray.  Long  acquaintance  and  Lewis's  jocose  man- 
ner made  him  feel  on  particularly  easy  terms  with  him ; 
and  as  Lewis  was  helping  himself,  Titus  called  to  me — 
"  Miss  Neely,  if  Maus  Lewis  tak  two  piece  of  cake, 
he  an't  lef  enough  for  sarve  all." 

Passing  from  Lewis  he  came  to  a  gentleman  who  was 
occupied  in  looking  at  the  paper  to  ascertain  a  point  of 
intelligence  ;  and  seeing  him  thus  engaged,  Titus  took  up 
a  piece  of  toast  carefully  with  his  thumb  and  finger,  and 
laid  it  on  a  plate  in  the  gentleman's  lap. 

Having  served  us  all,  he  deposited  the  tray  on  a  table, 
and  stood  still. 

After  due  time  I  said,  "  Hand  the  cake  round,  Titus." 
Titus  approached  the  table,  took  hold  of  the  cake- 
basket  with  an  air  of  importance,  and  deliberately  turned 
it  round,  almost  wrenching  his  arm  in  his  attempt  to  do 
it  thoroughly ;  and  then,  with  a  satisfied  air,  retreated. 
*  #  *  #  #  # 

Before  Lewis  left  town,  a  discussion  about  some  stolen 
articles,  that  had  been  restored  to  the  servants  through 
the  influence  of  a  fortune-teller,  inspired  him  and  me 
with  a  desire  to  visit  her ;  not  with  faith,  for  we  were 
aware  that  when  one  assertion  of  the  witch  was  true,  a 
hundred  misled  the  negroes,  who  spent  their  money  on  a 
shadow ;  ours  was  the  true  spirit  of  fun  and  curiosity  ; 
and  one  evening,  when  we  were  going  in  full  dress  to  a 
party,  unbonnetted  as  usual,  Lewis,  with  his  accustomed 

impetuosity  and  decision,  ordered  the  coachman  to 

street.     Gay  and  laughing,  he  speculated  on  our  fate. 
i    Anna  became  reluctant  to  go.     "  The  very  thought 
frightens  me,"  said  she.     "  We  have  no  right — " 

"  Right !  Miss  Allston,"  said  Lewis.     "  You  speak  as 


128  RECOLLECTIONS   Of  A 

if  we  expected  to  see  a  sibyl  instead  of  an  ignorant  pre* 
tender.  I  am  simply  curious  to  meet  a  woman  who 
operates  so  powerfully  on  so  many  minds." 

Our  fortune-teller  was  surrounded  by  none  of  those  as- 
sociations that  usually  lend  a  fascination  to  the  myste- 
ries of  the  craft.  No  cave  with  wild  and  repulsive  en- 
trance concealed  her  ;  no  lofty  trees  whispered  and  sighed 
as  she  delivered  her  oracles  ;  not  a  wrinkle  was  stamped 
on  her  brow  ;  there  was  even  something  of  beauty  in  her 
regular  profile,  and  her  large  black  eyes  threw  forth  a 
lustrous  ray, ;  still,  as  we  entered  her  small  apartment, 
where  one  candle  glanced  with  dim  and  yellow  light  on 
the  individual  who  pretended  to  the  awful  power  of  know- 
ing those  secrets  which  belong  only  to  the  Eternal,  our 
laugh  was  checked,  and  Anna's  fair  cheek  was  paler 
than  its  usual  delicate  hue.  She  trembled  so  much  that 
I  half  regretted  her  presence. 

I  advanced  first.  The  woman  looked  at  me  with  her 
penetrating  eyes  ;  and  pouring  some  tea  into  a  cup,  waved 
it  gently  until  the  grounds  were  scattered  and  settled ; 
then,  pouring  off  the  liquid,  she  examined  them  with  an 
air  of  deceptive  earnestness.  I  believe  my  whole  heart 
was  in  my  face  as  I  bent  eagerly  forward  to  this  singular 
dispenser  of  destiny.     What  a  war  of  feeling  and  reason  ! 

"  Here,"  said  she,  peering  at  the  cup,  "  is  a  young 
man  on  horseback,  and  there — do  you  see  something 
shining  there  ?"  and  she  pointed  with  a  bodkin  to  the  cen- 
tre of  the  cup,  looking  full  in  my  eyes — "  see,  there  is  a 
ring — and — " 

I  was  silly  enough  to  forget  that  a  young  man  and  a 
ring  would  probably  be  the  very  first  things  that  a  fortune- 
teller would  speak  of  to  a  girl  of  my  age  ;  and  putting  my 
hands  to  my  ears  I  screamed  out,  "  No,  no ;  not  another 
word !  I  will  not  hear  another  word  !"  while  Lewis 
clapped  his  hands  and  shouted,  "  Excellent,  go  on,  good 
woman,  go  on !" 

But  I  was  resolute.  I  felt  as  if  the  walls  had  ears 
and  eyes,  and  that  too  much  had  already  been  told,  and 
sheltered  my  burning  face  behind  Anna. 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  129 

"  Now,  Miss  Anna,"  said  Lewis,  as  with  gentle  force 
he  drew  her  towards  the  woman. 

How  beautiful  she  was  at  that  moment  in  the  struggle 
to  conquer  her  reluctance  !  Perhaps  the  contrast  of  the 
tall  commonplace  figure  of  the  fortune-teller  made  her 
spiritual  loveliness  more  striking.  She  grasped  her  little 
fan  almost  convulsively ;  her  eyes  shunned  the  dark  orbs 
that  were  fixed  upon  her ;  and  as  the  lips  of  the  fortune- 
teller uttered  a  sound,  she  caught  Lewis's  hand,  and 
looked  up  to  him  beseechingly,  while  tears  started  to  her 
eyes. 

Lewis  could  trifle  no  longer — he  retained  her  hand — 
throwing  at  the  same  time  a  double  douceur  to  the  wo- 
man, and  said  earnestly— 

"  God  forbid  that  my  boyish  whims  should  give  you  a 
moment's  pang !"  And,  drawing  her  arm  in  his,  he 
whispered,  as  we  descended  the  steps, 

"  Let  me  read  your  fortune,  sweet  trembler,  and  its 
first  and  last  oracle  shall  be  love,  love.'''' 

It  was  the  only  time  he  had  spoken  thus. 

Anna  was  silent  through  our  ride  ;  once  she  sighed  so 
deeply  that  we  started,  and  I  felt  a  warm  tear  drop  on 
my  arm  ! 

We  reached  the  hall,  and  were  separated  a  while  by 
the  dance. 

The  next  time  I  saw  her  her  cheek  was  glowing,  her 
eye  sparkling,  her  step  light  as  a  fay's  on  a  moonbeam, 
and  her  smile  all  radiance  and  joy  ;  while  Lewis  stood, 
not  dancing  with  her,  but  gazing  on  her,  and  she  knew 
that  it  was  so. 


130  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

COUNTRY    GUESTS. A    MORNING    WALK. NEW    TRIALS. 

"  Show  not  to  the  poor  thy  pride, 
Let  their  home  a  cottage  be  : 
Nor  the  country-dweller  hide 

In  a  palace  fit  for  thee. 
Better  far  his  humble  shed, 

Humble  sheds  of  neighbours  by, 
And  the  old  and  scanty  bed, 

Where  he  sleeps  and  hopes  to  die." 

Ceabbe. 

"  I  wish  your  likeness  had  been  taken  last  night," 
said  I  to  Anna,  as,  walking  through  King-street  on  the 
morning  after  the  ball,  I  glanced  at  her  placid  face. 
"  You  will  never  look  again  as  you  did  then,  with  that 
Shakspeare   expression  between  tragedy   and   comedy. 

How  could  you  fit  those  gloves  at  Madame 's  store 

so  quietly,  with  Lewis  at  your  side  1  If  my  heart's 
wishes  were  in  such  a  train  as  yours,  I  should  have 
jumped  over  the  counter." 

Anna  looked  at  me  with  an  arch  expression,  which 
seemed  to  say,  "  If  you  could  see  down  far  into  my 
heart,  you  would  not  find  any  trying  on  of  gloves  there." 

Gentle  creature  !  Why  was  she  not  spared  for  a  riper 
friendship  !  How  rich,  how  golden  would  have  been  her 
maturity  !  But  Heaven  calls  such  spirits  to  minister  at 
its  eternal  altar,  while  we  of  coarser  mould  are  left  to 
struggle  with  the  world. 

When  we  returned  from  our  walk,  the  servants  told  us 
that  a  cracker*  man  and  woman  were  in  the  drawing- 
room,  waiting  for  papa.  On  reaching  the  door,  which 
was  partly  open,  I  perceived  a  tall,  sallow-looking  coun- 

*  Wagoners,  so  called  from  the  snapping  of  their  long  whips,  to 
Stimulate  their  team. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  131 

tryman,  with  a  blue  homespun  dress,  which  hung  loosely 
about  him,  standing  with  his  hat  on,  his  arms  akimbo, 
speaking  to  a  young  girl  almost  equally  sallow,  also 
dressed  in  homespun,  with  a  cracker  or  cape  bonnet  of 
the  same  material. 

As  he  addressed  her  she  rose,  and  they  stood  before 
one  of  the  small  convex  mirrors  at  that  time  in  fashion. 

"  Now,  Susy,"  said  he,  "just  see  what  a  smart  chance 
smaller  it  makes  us." 

So  speaking,  they  walked  backwards,  gazing  at  their 
diminishing  size ;  exclaiming,  "  If  that  an't  despert  curous ! 
Well,  anyhow,  that's  droll !"  until  they  nearly  fell  over 
Anna  and  me  as  we  entered.  Recovering  themselves, 
they  nodded  at  us,  the  man  keeping  his  hat  on  still. 

I  should  have  been  embarrassed  had  not  papa  entered, 
and,  instantly  recognising  his  visiter,  cordially  shook 
hands  with  him. 

"  And  who  is  this  V  said  he,  turning  to  the  girl. 

"  Well,  that's  Susy,  my  sister,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Miss  Susy  is  very  welcome,  as  well  as  yourself," 
said  papa.  "  Cornelia,  I  hope  my  friend  Mr.  Slute  will 
stay  with  us,  and  you  must  do  all  you  can  tc  make  him 
and  his  sister  comfortable." 

I  fear  there  was  an  inhospitable  look  of  astonishment 
in  my  face,  for  papa  immediately  addressed  me,  with  a 
look  to  call  my  attention. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  informed  you,"  said  he, 
"  of  a  circumstance  which  occurred  to  me  last  spring,  in 
my  journey.  An  accident  happening  to  my  horse,  I  was 
obliged  to  hire  one  of  the  little  animals  called  '  marsh 
tackies'  to  carry  me  over  a  creek.  They  are  usually 
very  strong  and  sure  ;  but,  as  my  luck  would  have  it, 
this  little  wretch  began  to  plunge  instead  of  swimming. 
In  this  style  I  reached  the  opposite  shore,  where,  so  far 
from  stopping,  he  set  off  at  full  speed,  knocked  me 
against  the  projecting  limb  of  a  tree,  and  deposited  me 
among  the  cypress-knees  in  the  swamp.  This  not  being 
enough,  he  cut  sundry  capers,  and  kicked  off  my  saddle- 
bags :  satisfied  with  that,  he  allowed  me  to  catch  and  tie 
him  to  a  tree,  while  I  waded  down  the  creek  to  recover 


132  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

my  property.  Mark,  appearing  with  my  own  horse, 
mounted  the  tackie,  and  we  rode  to  the  nearest  habita- 
tion, which,  fortunately,  was  Mr.  Slute's,  who  lent  me  a 
clean  suit  of  homespun,  entertained  me  with  every  kind- 
ness, without  accepting  any  compensation,  and  has  com- 
plied with  my  request,  to  come  to  us  when  he  should 
visit  Charleston." 

While  papa  made  this  statement,  which  was  evidently 
given  for  me  to  recover  my  self-possession,  Mr.  Slute 
still  stood  before  the  mirror,  with  a  mountain  of  tobacco 
in  his  cheek,  now  and  then  retiring  and  advancing,  and 
nodding  at  Susy.  No  other  decorations  of  the  room 
seemed  to  excite  their  interest,  though  they  had  proba- 
bly never  seen  any  furniture  but  coarse  oak  chairs,  seated 
with  hickory  shavings,  or  deer  or  alligator  skins,  pine 
tables,  serving  various  purposes,  and  perhaps  a  wooden 
clock,  a  luxury  to  which  most  country  people  aspire. 

It  required  a  prodigious  struggle  for  me  to  seem  at 
ease  with  our  new  guests  ;  but  I  conquered,  and  felt  that 
satisfaction  which  results  from  the  determination  to  make 
others  happy. 

The  first  moment  we  could  gain  together,  Anna  and  I 
vented  our  ohs  and  ahs,  and  gave  keen  feminine  glances 
at  awkward  possibilities. 

The  Slutes  were  to  pass  but  a  few  days  with  us,  and 
Susy's  perfect  innocence  soon  won  on  my  regard.  The 
third  day  after  their  arrival,  Lewis  was  to  dine  with  us 
and  bring  a  friend.  He  frightened  as  much  as  he  amused 
me  by  his  manners  to  our  guests,  catching  at  once  their 
peculiar  dialect,  and  addressing  them  in  their  own  style. 
I  saw  Mr.  Slute  look  keenly  at  him  the  first  evening,  but 
his  flexibility  and  winning  tones  soon  dispelled  all  doubt. 
He  was  entirely  devoted  to  Susy,  rattling  on  about  coun- 
try matters,  while  she  sat  staring  and  laughing  at  him  in 
a  kind  of  surprise  that  was  exceedingly  amusing.  I 
trembled  lest  he  should  go  too  far,  and  trespass  on  the 
bounds  which  some  minds,  the  most  open  to  the  ludi- 
crous, often  preserve  so  kindly. 

On  the  day  the  gentlemen  were  to  dine  with  us,  after 


SOUTHERN    MATRON,  133 

consulting  Anna,  I  decided  to  give  Susy  a  little  advice, 
as  she  seemed  so  gentle  and  amiable. 

"  You  must  not  be  offended,"  said  I,  looking  away 
from  her,  "  if  I  speak  to  you  frankly  about  something.  It 
is  not  considered  perfectly  polite  to  pick  bones  at  the 
dinner-table,  in  the  city,  particularly  with  both  hands." 

"  Why,  do  tell !"  said  she. 

"  I  expect  Mr.  Barnwell  and  another  young  man  to 
dine  here,"  continued  I,  "  and  I  wish,  if  it  does  not  make 
any  difference  to  you,  you  would  not  pick  your  bones  to- 
day at  table." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Susy,  "  I  an't  a  grain  set 
upon  pickin  bones,  no  how,  but  I  recken  I  mout  forget 
it." 

I  mused  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  As  you  sit  next  to 
me,  if  I  see  you  putting  a  bone  to  your  mouth  I  will  just 
touch  you  with  my  foot,  and  that  will  make  you  remem- 
ber." 

"  Sartain,"  said  Susy,  good-naturedly ;  "  that's  mighty 
reasonable." 

The  dinner-hour  arrived,  and,  as  ill  luck  would  have 
it,  Susy  preferred  a  rib  of  roast  pork  to  anything  else  : 
however,  I  felt  quite  secure,  as  I  perceived  her  assidu- 
ously cutting  the  meat  off.  As  the  conversation  became 
more  animated,  my  attention  was  withdrawn ;  at  my  next 
glance,  I  saw  her  with  both  hands  up,  tugging  at  the 
bone  in  her  mouth.  I  touched  her  foot— with  a  wild 
kind  of  stare  she  let  her  hands  drop,  leaving  the  long 
bone  between  her  teeth ! 

Among  the  articles  at  the  dessert  were  whips  and  jel- 
lies ;  Susy  eyed  them  keenly,  and  Lewis  handed  her  a 
whip.  As  the  pure  white  bubbles  stood  high  in  the 
glass,  she  inserted  her  spoon  into  the  froth,  and  then  in- 
troduced it  heaping  into  her  mouth,  expecting  to  taste  a 
solid  and  tangible  morsel.  Susy  started,  set  down  the 
glass,  shook  her  pocket-handkerchief,  looked  in  her  lap, 
pushed  back  her  chair,  felt  of  her  frock,  examined  the 
floor,  and  then  said,  in  a  low  tone — 

"  Well,  if  that  truck  an't  gone  mighty  curious." 

I  hope  it  will  be  understood  that  not  a  particle  of  con- 
M 


134  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

tempt  is  intended  in  this  sketch ;  for,  while  aiming  to 
present  a  picture  of  manners,  it  is  as  unphilosophical  as 
ill-natured  to  view  local  relations  with  so  narrow  an  eye. 
The  class  of  persons  whom  I  describe  are  everything 
they  should  be  in  their  own  sphere  ;  they  maintain  in  the 
duties  of  domestic  life  simplicity  and  honesty,  and,  should 
danger  threaten  our  country,  none  would  be  more  for- 
ward than  they  to  protect  and  defend  her.  No  foolish 
ambition  carries  them  voluntarily  into  society  unsuited  to 
their  unsophisticated  habits ;  and,  when  circumstances 
throw  them  into  such  circles,  they  preserve  their  own 
individuality.  Nor  does  this  sketch  touch  that  class  of 
persons  at  the  South  who,  though  removed  from  cities, 
possess  the  cultivation  of  the  metropolis  without  its  cares 
and  vanities. 

If  it  were  not  too  obvious  that  Providence  has  bal- 
anced the  pleasures  and  evils  of  every  grade  of  human 
beings,  I  might  say  that  this  latter  class  are  the  happiest 
in  the  world.  With  wealth  to  procure  means  of  educa- 
tion, and  to  enjoy  it  when  obtained,  they  live  in  a  little 
region  of  their  own ;  noi-  are  they  in  solitude  and  igno- 
rance ;  thougft  secluded,  their  hospitable  doors  are  open 
to  friends,  and  the  frequent  traveller  brings  to  their  tran- 
quil abodes  the  softened  echo  of  the  world. 

The  following  morning  Miss  Slute  requested  me  to 
accompany  her  brother  and  herself  to  make  some  pur- 
chases in  King-street.  I  could  give  no  excuse  for  de- 
clining, but  consented  with  as  good  a  grace  as  possible  ; 
and,  beseeching  Anna  to  accompany  us,  I  ordered  the 
carriage,  though  for  so  short  a  distance.  What  was  our 
consternation  to  see  Susy  come  down  stairs  with  a  stiff 
new  white  lace  veil,  reaching  nearly  to  her  feet,  tied  over 
her  cracker  bonnet.  Anna  and  I  entered  the  carriage  in 
silence,  shrinking  back  as  our  friends,  in  their  eagerness 
to  see  everything,  leaned  from  the  windows.  In  King- 
street  we  alighted,  Susy  and  her  brother  taking  hold  of 
hands  and  walking  in  front  of  us.  On  entering  a  shop 
they  perceived  that  they  had  lost  the  memorandum  for 
their  purchases,  and  disagreed  about  the  articles  and  the 
quantity.     Anna  and  I  gave  ourselves  up  in  despair  for 


SOTJTHERN   MATRON.  135 

a  while  to  their  erratic  movements,  and  then  proposed 
returning  to  the  carriage  ;  but  alas  !  in  darting  from  shop 
to  shop  the  coachman  had  lost  us.  Fashion  and  business 
began,  as  usual,  to  throng  King-street ;  and  many  a  glance 
was  cast  at  our  guests,  as,  hand  in  hand,  they  preceded 
us,  frequently  speaking  our  names  aloud.  At  length 
Lewis  discerned  us ;  he  smoothed  down  his  face  with  a 
comical  look  and  joined  us. 

"  Can  you  think  of  no  way,"  whispered  I,  "  to  get  us 
out  of  King-street '?" 

Lewis  laughed  at  my  perplexed  look,  and  answering 
"  Oh  yes)"  turned  to  Mr.  Slute,  reminded  him  that  he  had 
promised  to  show  them  St.  Michael's  steeple,  and  asked 
him  if  he  would  like  to  go  now. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Slute,  "  I  don't  care 
if  I  do." 

We  left  King-street,  Susy  and  her  brother  taking  hold 
of  hands,  and  Lewis  following  with  Anna  and  me.  Not 
far  from  St.  Michael's  corner  sat  a  black  woman,  with  a 
stock  of  gingercake,  molasses  candy,  &c.  to  sell,  over 
which  she  waved  a  fly-brush  of  palmetto.  In  front  of  us 
was  a  group  of  young  men,  among  whom  I  started  at  dis- 
tinguishing Arthur  Marion.  At  this  moment  we  were 
hailed  from  behind  by  Mr.  Slute  and  Susy,  who  had  bar- 
gained for  a  large  square  of  the  gingerbread,  and  were 
asking  us  to  partake  of  it.  They  had  joined  us,  and 
were  pressing  it  on  us,  when  Marion  and  another  gen- 
tleman, advancing  from  the  group,  passed  us.  It  was  in 
vain  for  me  to  see  as  though  I  saw  not ;  I  felt  the  blood 
rush  to  my  face,  and  saw  a  glow  of  recognition  kindle  up 
on  his,  although  there  was  no  other  movement  of  ac- 
quaintanceship. 

Mr.  Slute  resumed  his  walk,  munching  his  cake,  and, 
as  I  glanced  back,  I  saw  that  Marion  and  Mr.  Elliot  had 
turned  and  were  following  us.  As  we  stopped  under  the 
portico  of  St.  Michael's,  while  Lewis  went  opposite  to 
the  guard-house  to  procure  the  key  of  the  church  door, 
they  passed  us  slowly,  and  another  full  glance  told  me 
that  I  was  recognised,  but  whether  as  the  lady  of  the 
ditch  or  the  lady  of  the  ball  I  knew  not.     Marion  and 


136  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

Elliot  suppressed  a  smile  as  they  saw  the  gingerbread- 
eaters,  while  Anna  and  I  stood  like  two  victims,  blush- 
ing to  the  eyes.  They  passed  on ;  but,  as  the  guard- 
man  opened  the  door  for  us  to  enter  the  church,  I  ven- 
tured one  more  look.  Marion  and  his  companion  were 
turning  towards  the  building,  and,  as  we  commenced 
ascending  the  stairs,  I  heard  his  mellow  voice  and  Elli- 
ot's gay  laugh  below. 


CHAPTER  XX. 
a  visit  to  st.  Michael's  tower. 

"  St.  Michael's  spire !   St.  Michael's  spire  ! 
How  fair  thou  risest  to  the  sight ; 
Now,  glittering  in  the  noon  sun's  fire, 
Now,  soften'd  by  the  '  pale  moonlight !' " 

Lewis,  accustomed  to  the  way,  with  Anna  under  his 
protection,  rapidly  preceded  us.  We  followed  more 
slowly,  and  were  soon  in  utter  darkness  on  the  spiral 
stairway.  I  was  not  aware  that  there  was  only  room 
enough  for  one  person  to  go  at  a  time,  neither  had  I 
given  a  thought  to  the  steepness  of  the  ascent,  nor  to  the 
excessive  gloom  and  solitude,  exciting,  in  almost  every 
inexperienced  visiter,  a  peculiar  sensation.  My  agita- 
tion was  not  unmixed  with  terror,  and  yet  I  was  disposed 
to  laugh,  as  a  relief  to  the  apprehension  that  lay  like  a 
weight  upon  my  senses,  as  we  wound  round  and  round, 
feeling  our  way  at  every  step. 

Lewis  and  Anna  were  soon  far  beyond  our  hearing 
and  observation,  and  the  scene  suited  well  his  eccentric 
nature.  He  heeded  not  the  darkness,  and  Anna  soon 
forgot  it  too.  Love  held  a  torch  brighter  than  sunbeams ; 
and,  as  he  supported  her  slight  figure,  he  almost  fancied 
the  blush  that  mantled  on  her  cheek,  and  he  fancied  not, 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  137 

but  he  felt,  the  trembling  of  her  hand  as  he  urged  his 
hopes. 

"  Speak  to  me,  Anna,"  whispered  he  ;  "  let  me  hear 
your  voice  now,  alone  and  solitary,  before  the  world 
comes  between  to  break  the  spell !  Speak,  dearest !  Let 
me  hear  you  in  this  darkness  say,  that  in  the  darker 
walks  of  life  I  shall  be  your  companion.  Say  that  I 
may  aid  you  on  your  way,  and  that  you  will  soften  mine 
with  your  tenderness.  Speak  but  one  word,  now,  now ; 
that  word  will  be  a  light  to  my  soul." 

Anna  did  murmur  a  word,  and  the  light  broke  from  the 
belfry  windows,  and  revealed  a  look  that  spoke  still 
more. 

"  Blessed  augury  !"  said  Lewis  ;  "  so  shall  your  love 
shine  out  on  my  existence." 

No  one  can  imagine,  without  actual  experience,  how 
long  appears  the  really  brief  period  of  darkness  in  as- 
cending the  first  flight  of  that  tower.  Mr.  Slute  and 
Susy  were  just  in  advance  of  me,  and  my  own  expres- 
sions of  excitement  were  soon  suspended  by  her  more 
violent  alarm.  At  length  she  burst  forth  in  hysterical 
shrieks,  and  came  to  a  complete  stand. 

"  I  an't  a  going  a  grain  farther,"  sobbed  she ;  "  you 
mout  as  well  a'  put  me  in  my  coffin  at  once't  as  to  bring 
me  to  this  pisonous  hole." 

"  'Tan't  no  use  to  talk  about  it  now,  any  how,"  said 
Mr.  Slute.  "  It  won't  help  you  none  to  stay  there  squeal- 
ing like  a  stuck  shote.  If  you  don't  choose  to  let  me 
tote  ye  up,  you  must  let  it  alone."  So  saying,  he  as- 
cended the  stairs,  still  calling  on  Susy  to  follow. 

But  Susy,  frightened  beyond  all  control,  spread  out 
her  hands  helplessly  in  the  darkness  to  feel  for  me,  cry- 
ing out — 

"Poor,  poor  Susy  Slute's  buried  alive!  Poor  me! 
What  shall  I  do  1" 

I  spoke  to  her  as  soothingly  as  possible,  but  without 
effect ;  she  would  neither  advance  nor  return,  but  seemed 
in  an  ecstasy  of  terror. 

At  length  I  heard  a  voice  close  behind  me.  "  Can  I 
M2 


138  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

be  of  any  assistance  here  V-  it  said.  "  If  my  name  is 
any  pledge  of  my  good-will,  it  is  Arthur  Marion." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  I,  exceedingly  embarrassed  at 
the  preposterous  predicament  in  which  I  was  again 
placed,  and  bewildered  with  the  darkness. 

"  What  is  the  lady's  name  I"  asked  Marion. 

"  Miss  Susan  Slute,"  I  replied. 

"  Miss  Susan,"  said  he,  encouragingly,  "  you  have  only 
about  fifteen  steps  to  go  to  reach  the  platform,  where  it 
will  be  light ;  let  me  count  them  for  you  as  you  ascend. 
One — that  is  right,"  continued  he,  as  he  heard  our  dresses 
rustle  ;  "  two — three — you  are  going  on  bravely  now" — 
and  he  spoke  as  a  tender  parent  would  address  a  timid 
child,  until  the  glimmering  light  above  stimulated  her  to 
more  exertion,  and  we  reached  the  bell-room,  where, 
throwing  herself  on  a  seat,  she  recovered  from  her  alarm. 
But  nothing  would  induce  her  to  proceed ;  and,  stating 
to  the  gentlemen  that  I  preferred  remaining  with  her  un- 
til her  brother's  return,  they  left  us  and  ascended  another 
flight. 

The  delicacy  of  Marion's  manner  was  not  lost  on  me. 
What  refinement,  what  goodness  was  in  every  look  and 
tone  !  Again  my  heart  whispered,  "  Charles  Duncan 
would  have  loved  him  !" 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Slute  returned.  Susy's 
entreaties  to  go  home  were  too  earnest  to  withstand  ;  and, 
as  he  stated  that  the  next  flight  of  stairs  was  lighted 
throughout,  I  parted  from  them  in  pursuit  of  Lewis  and 
Anna,  whom  he  had  left  in  the  second  balcony. 

Though  no  longer  in  darkness,  the  excitement  was  in- 
tense from  my  loneliness,  and  it  appeared  to  me  that  I 
should  never  reach  the  first  balcony.  When  I  had  at- 
tained the  spot  I  resolved  to  wait  for  Lewis  and  Anna ; 
and,  as  I  turned  to  gaze  on  my  own  fair  city,  a  thrill  of 
astonishment  and  delight  ran  through  me  at  its  beautiful 
proportions. 

On  either  side,  the  Ashley  and  Cooper,  gently  swel- 
ling to  the  sea,  or  twining  off  in  silvery  streams  to  the 
woodlands,  shone  in  the  sunbeams ;  the  blue  sea  rocked 
the  masts  at  the  wharves,  or  extended  its  broad  surface 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  139 

for  vessels  that  stood  with  their  spread  sails,  like  eagles 
plumed  for  flight ;  the  flag  of  Fort  Moultrie  waved  in  the 
distance ;  and  nearer,  Castle  Pinckney  sat  like  a  swan 
upon  the  waters.  I  looked  below ;  a  map  seemed  spread 
before  me.  I  felt  like  a  being  of  another  sphere ;  like 
something  apart  from  the  human  machines  who  were 
moving  noiselessly  and  voicelessly  to  me,  reduced  by 
distance  to  a  speck  amid  their  own  creations. 

I  sat  quietly  expecting  Lewis  and  Anna,  until  their 
delay  startled  me  ;  and  then  I  smiled  as  I  thought  of  the 
absorbing  character  of  their  intercourse,  and  perhaps  I 
smiled  the  more  as  a  glance  at  the  Ashley  reminded  me 
of  former  scenes  upon  its  banks,  when  I  was  Lewis's 
heroine. 

I  now  resolved  to  ascend  another  flight  of  stairs,  and 
meet  them  on  the  highest  balcony.  I  had  taken  but  a 
few  steps  before  my  heart  began  to  beat  violently.  I 
could  almost  hear  its  throbbing,  the  stillness  was  so  pro- 
found. I  was  confident,  however,  that  they  awaited  me 
there,  and  quickened  my  steps,  though  dizzy  with  the  in- 
creasing height,  and  agitated  by  undefinable  alarms.  I 
reached  the  second  balcony,  certain  that  Lewis  and  Anna 
would  spring  to  meet  me.  They  were  not  there.  I  called 
their  names  ;  I  ran  with  the  steps  of  a  frightened  fawn 
around  the  pilasters,  with  a  faint  hope  at  my  heart  that 
they  might  have  hidden  themselves  in  a  frolicsome  hu- 
mour. They  appeared  not  ;  again,  in  agony  of  spirit,  I 
shouted,  "  Lewis  !  Anna  !  for  mercy's  sake  come  to  me !" 
My  voice  melted  in  that  vast  height,  a  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  from  the  earth,  like  a  snow-flake  on  a  stream. 

How  the  feelings  colour  objects !  There  shone  the 
heavens  in  their  broad  sweep  of  majesty,  calmly,  beauti- 
fully blue,  looking  down  upon  the  earth ;  there  lay  the 
earth,  with  its  green  bosom  open  to  the  sky ;  the  rivers 
still  wound  to  the  sea,  like  loving  children  to  a  mother's 
arms  ;  the  sea  expanded  its  broad  surface,  while  near 
and  ramote  sails  stiffened  in  the  breeze  ;  the  city  slept  in 
quiet  distance  below,  and  man  moved  there  still,  the  lord 
of  the  creation.  I  heeded  them  not ;  they  even  seemed 
to  mock  my  growing  terrors ;  while  the  winds,  as  they 


140    '  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

swept  round  the  tower,  brought  shrill  and  terrific  voices 
to  my  ear,  and,  as  they  died  away  fitfully,  my  pulses  sank 
and  my  limbs  trembled. 

My  last  resource  was  to  ascend  the  spire.  There 
again  was  deep  darkness.  I  shrank  back ;  and  yet  the 
hope  that,  ignorant  of  my  separation  from  my  compan- 
ions, Lewis  and  Anna  were  secreted  there,  urged  me  on. 
I  took  a  few  upward  steps,  and  my  brain  reeled  in  the 
felt  gloom.  Again  I  cried,  "  Lewis  !  Anna  J"  but  not 
even  echo  returned  a  sound.  At  length  the  thought 
flashed  through  my  mind  that  they  had  gone  down  with- 
out perceiving  me  in  the  first  gallery,  which,  from  its 
extent  and  octagonal  form,  they  could  easily  have  done, 
and,  presuming  that  I  had  descended  with  Mr.  Slute, 
had  probably  left  the  tower.  At  this  idea  my  brain 
snapped  with  the  intensity  of  my  alarm  ;  strange  lights 
seemed  to  dance  in  the  obscurity.  Once  more  I  screamed 
"  Lewis  !  Anna !"  No  sound  replied  to  my  cries ;  my 
voice  grew  hoarse  with  my  efforts  ;  seconds  seemed  like 
years.  I  attempted  again  to  move  forward ;  I  groped 
about  with  a  wild  impulse,  beating  the  air  in  the  horrible 
uncertainty,  and  fell. 

When  Marion  and  Elliot  descended  the  stairs  from 
the  pigeon-holes,  they  found  me  insensible  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  balcony.  On  recovering  I  perceived  Ma- 
rion supporting  me,  while  Elliot  stood  fanning  me  with 
his  hat.  I  must  have  been  stunned  with  the  fall,  for  I 
could  not  immediately  comprehend  my  situation,  or  feel 
power  to  move.  I  afterward  recalled  their  looks  of  ter- 
ror and  perplexity,  but  it  was  many  minutes  before  my 
consciousness  was  fully  restored.  When  it  was,  I  started 
from  my  position — they  had  taken  off  my  hat,  while  my 
hair  was  loosed  and  fell  around  me.  In  a  moment  I  per- 
ceived the  embarrassment  of  my  situation,  and  the  blood 
seemed  to  rush  in  tingling  torrents  through  my  frame. 
From  extreme  faintness  I  felt  my  cheeks  suddenly  flushed 
with  a  glow  of  shame,  and,  in  a  reaction  from  the  silence 
of  insensibility,  I  began  to  pour  forth  a  torrent  of  excuses, 
and  thanks,  and  explanations  :  nor  was  this  all ;  nature 
claimed  the  tribute  she  so  often  calls  from  the  young, 
and  I  burst  into  tears. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  141 

Elliot  was  about  to  speak  to  me. 

*'  Hush !"  whispered  Marion  ;  "  tears  will  relieve  her." 

I  wiped  my  eyes  and  advanced  to  the  stairs. 

"  Allow  me,"  said  he,  without  offering  his  arm,  "  to 
precede  you  one  step,  to  guard  against  dizziness  as  you 
descend." 

I  followed  passively ;  he  said  little,  but  occasionally- 
turned  his  head  towards  me  with  a  look  of  the  most  re- 
spectful inquiry,  while  Elliot,  his  usual  degagee  manner 
quite  subdued,  followed  us. 

At  the  last  flight,  however,  when  we  were  in  total 
darkness,  they  both  questioned  me  frequently,  that  they 
might  know  if  my  strength  failed  me. 

It  was  a  singular  circumstance,  that  in  the  previous 
descent,  as  Marion  kept  his  hand  on  the  balustrades  and 
pillars  for  support,  my  diamond  ring,  glittering  on  his 
finger,  seemed  to  me  a  guide  and  comfort.  It  was  now 
no  longer  visible.  I  felt  again  sudden  oppression  ;  my 
voice  faltered,  my  limbs  seemed  to  give  way  beneath  me, 
and  I  should  have  fallen,  had  not  light  and  air  broke  in 
from  the  portico  and  restored  me. 

Marion  requested  to  see  me  home  safely,  and  I  went 
on,  debating  with  myself  how  to  thank  him.  Nothing 
but  monosyllables  could  I  muster,  though  my  heart  was 
so  full.  That  night,  on  my  pillow,  how  many  delightful 
things  I  thought  of  which  I  might  have  said. 

We  reached  the  door,  and  I  stammered  out  the  very 
thing  I  did  not  mean  to  say — "  I  must  thank  you  for  the 
past  and  the  present  together,  Mr.  Marion.  You  seem 
to  be  destined  for  my  knight-errant." 

He  looked  surprised,  but  smiled. 

"  I  am  not  aware,"  said  he,  "  of  any  past  claim  on  my 
chivalry ;  but,  if  you  will  allow  me  one  for  the  future,  I 
shall  feel  honoured." 

He  bowed  gracefully,  and  I  saw  by  his  manner  that  I 
was  still  unknown  except  as  the  girl  of  the  ball-room. 

The  door  opened.  Anna,  with  a  look  of  surprise  and 
joy,  flew  to  me  and  kissed  my  cheek,  while  Mr.  Marion 
walked  on. 


142  RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE    WEDDING. 


■"  Canst  thou  love  me,  Kate  ?  A  good  leg  will  fall ;  a  straight  back 
will  stoop  ;  a  black  beard  will  turn  white  ;  a  curled  pate  will  grow 
bald ;  a  fair  face  will  wither ;  a  full  eye  wax  hollow ;  but  a  good 
heart,  Kate,  is  the  sun  and  the  moon,  or  rather  the  sun  and  not  the 
moon  ;  for  it  shines  bright,  and  never  changes,  but  keeps  its  course 
truly.    If  thou  wouldst  have  such  a  one,  have  me." — Henry  V. 

"  I  saw  her  from  the  altar  led, 
With  silvery  veil,  but  slightly  swept  aside, 
The  fresh,  young  rose-bud  deepening  on  her  cheek, 
And  on  her  brow  the  sweet  and  solemn  thoughts 
Of  one  who  gives  a  priceless  gift  away." 

Mrs.  Sigourney. 

A  gay  group  of  bridemaids  were  assembled  in  that 
sunny  month,  the  month  of  April,  around  the  toilet  of 
Anna  Alston,  fitting  the  slipper's  neat  proportion,  or  twi- 
ning orange-blossoms  in  her  soft  hair,  or  adjusting  the 
floating  veil ;  and,  as  the  jests  of  their  light  hearts  went 
round,  a  dimple  would  play  in  the  delicate  fulness  of  her 
cheek,  or  a  sigh,  sweet  and  gentle  as  a  summer  breath 
floating  over  roses,  escape  from  her  veiled  breast,  or  a 
glance  of  such  mingled  pleasure  and  reproach  as  rather 
excited  than  checked  her  merry  attendants,  stole  from 
her  deep  blue  eyes. 

Around  her  were  kind  manifestations  of  friendship — 
the  pure  satin  cushion,  where  pins,  arranged  in  finished 
letters,  told  "  joy  to  the  bride ;"  the  beautiful  vase,  through 
whose  transparency  light  came  like  thoughts  through 
an  ingenuous  countenance ;  perfumes,  not  needed  by 
her  whose  breath  was  fresh  as  infancy ;  books,  sweet 
mementoes  of  intellectual  sympathy  ;  jewels,  glittering 
on  her  small  fingers,  save  that  on  which  was  to  be  placed 
the  golden  circlet,  touching  emblem  of  the  love  which 
owns  no  termination ;  and  flowers,  those  fair  and  frail 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  *    143 

gifts  which  were  to  tell  to-morrow  the  moral  of  beauty- 
arid  decay. 

When  all  was  done  that  nature,  whose  dowry  was  so 
rich,  and  art,  which  even  dares  to  tint  the  bosom  of  a 
shell,  could  do ;  when  no  jealous  eye  might  detect  an 
imperfection  in  the  snowy  robe,  or  floating  veil,  or 
braided  hair,  Lewis  was  summoned.  He  cast  one  proud, 
triumphant  glance  upon  Anna's  moonlight  loveliness,  but 
withdrew  it,  for  the  crimson  flood  rushed  to  her  cheek 
and  brow,  and  thrilled  her  taper  fmgersj  and  made  the 
white  rose  which  she  held  still  paler. 

Amid  that  brilliant  group  were  two  persons  watching 
the  motions  of  the  lovely  girl  with  no  common  interest. 
Cely  her  maid,  and  her  old  nurse  Binah.  A  china  toilet 
cup  and  saucer,  of  classical  proportions,  with  Anna's  name 
in  gilt  letters  on  the  outside,  were  brought  in  as  a  gift 
from  one  of  Lewis's  connexions.  As  old  Binah  took 
the  cup  from  the  servant,  she  approached  her  young  mis- 
tress with  a  solemn  courtesy  and  an  upward  look,  and 
said,  ^. 

"  May  God  Almighty  grant  my  young  missis  for  drink        J 
out  such  a  cup  like  dis  in  heaven."* 

Cely's  thoughts  were  less  spiritual.  She  evidently 
deprecated  the  well-meant  assistance  rendered  to  the 
bride,  and  whenever  we  interfered  with  any  part  of  her 
dress,  quietly  but  instantly  rearranged  it. 

The  bridemaids  presented  the  white  favours  to  the 
groomsmen,  and  we  were  summoned  to  the  apartments 
below.  They  were  decorated  with  branches  of  magno- 
lia, wild-orange,  holly,  and  other  evergreens  of  our  woods, 
while  the  graceful  and  odorous  yellow  jessamine  was 
entwined  with  their  firmer  foliage,  and  many  a  spring 
blossom  peeped  between  the  glossy  green. 

The  atmosphere  seemed  to  breathe  of  Anna's  pres- 
ence ;  the  bright-wreathed  flowers  kindled  up  anew, 
and  the  light  softened  as  she  moved  onward.  There 
was  no  eye  but  for  her. 

Tht  wide  semicircle  of  groomsmen  and  bridemaids 

*  This  touching  prayer  was  heard  by  the  writer. 


144  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

was  formed  ;  there  was  a  hush — the  solemn  words  were 
uttered,  and  soon  the  parents  of  Lewis  embraced  their 
daughter ;  and  as  she  felt  their  twining  arms  and  loving 
kiss,  she  whispered,  "  I  am  no  longer  an  orphan." 

As  first  bridemaid,  I  was  called  upon  to  cut  the  cake, 
which  contained  a  ring.  Many  an  eye  was  turned  to- 
wards me,  for  she  who  finds  the  ring  in  her  portion  will, 
it  is  said,  be  the  next  bride.  The  girls  eagerly  took 
their  share,  and  shade  after  shade  came  over  their  smiling 
faces,  I  broke  my  slice,  and  the  ring  fell  on  the  floor. 
There  was  a  gallant  scramble  among  the  beaux  who 
threw  themselves  at  my  feet  to  find  it.  Did  I  fancy  that 
he  who  was  successful  lingered  a  moment  in  his  kneeling 
attitude  while  presenting  it  to  me  1  Was  it  in  mere 
gallantry  that  he  bowed  his  lips  to  the  ring  ?  Was  there 
not  something  of  reality  in  his  gay  address  1  Perhaps  it 
was  imagination,  but  the  youth  was  Arthur  Marion,  and 
two  weeks'  acquaintance  does  wonders  with  young  peo- 
ple. 

"  Will  you  exchange  rings  with  me,  Mr.  Marion  V  said 
I,  as  we  were  promenading  the  piazza,  in  the  pauses  of 
the  dance,  and  jesting  of  my  success.  "  I  have  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  that  diamond  ring  on  your  little  finger." 

He  blushed  like  a  girl. 

"  You  will  think  me  romantic,  Miss  Wilton,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  have  made  a  resolution  never  to  part  with  this 
ring  except  to  the  owner.  I  had  not  seen  you,  remember, 
when  I  made  this  vow." 

"  And  who  is  the  owner  ?"  asked  I.  "  I  have  a  right, 
in  my  office  to-night,  to  take  some  liberties." 

He  paused  a  while,  and  then  said  gravely, 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  laugh  at  me  as  Elliot  does,  but 
your  authority  is  not  to  be  resisted." 

After  a  little  hesitation,  he  related  the  adventures  of 
the  ditch.  It  was  amusing  to  see  the  difference  between 
his  and  Elliot's  representations.  Marion  even  threw  a 
shade  of  romance  over  his  heroine,  but  I  could  not  pre- 
serve my  gravity.     Marion  looked  graver  still. 

"  You  are  amused,  Miss  Wilton,"  said  he,  "  at  this 
detail,  and  laugh  almost  as  wickedly  as  Elliot ;  but,  I  as- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  145 

sure  you,  his  ridicule  has  only  stimulated  me  to  shelter 
that  lady  from  the  shafts  of  his  wit." 

"  I  know,"  said  I,  "  that  it  would  be  too  romantic  in 
these  days  to  expect  our  heroines  to  come  out  as  pure 
and  unsullied  from  a  ditch  as  Una  and  her  milk-white 
lamb  ;  but  you  must  confess  that  your  heroine  was  not  in 
a  very  interesting  predicament." 

"  Every  woman  is  interesting  to  me  who  requires  my 
protection,"  rejoined  Marion. 

"  Should  you  know  your  heroine  again  V  said  I. 

"  I  am  confident  that  I  should  know  her  person  any- 
where," he  replied.  "  Her  face  was  concealed  by  her 
bent  hat  and  soiled  veil  ;  but  her  figure,  which  I  gazed 
on  until  she  was  out  of  sight,  I  think  I  should  recognise 
in  a  crowd ;  and  on  horseback  I  could  not  be  mistaken 
in  her.  I  have  seldom  seen  so  symmetrical  a  form,  at 
least  not  until  very  recently,"  and  he  bowed  and  smiled. 

"  How  was  it  that  the  negroes  did  not  know  the  lady 
or  her  attendants  V  asked  I. 

"  They  were  new  hands,"  he  answered,  "  and  could  telJ 
me  nothing  of  them." 

"  What  was.  the  height  of  your  lady  of  the  ditch  !" 
said  I,  laughing. 

"  She  was  not  as  tall  as  you  are,"  replied  he,  "  but 
rather  nearer  Mrs.  Barnwell's  size." 

I  started  at  the  name.  It  sounded,  almost  gratingly. 
I  felt  half  jealous  that  my  friend  should  no  longer  be 
Anna  Alston,  as  she  stood  bowing  to  the  various  saluta- 
tions, graceful  as  a  fringe-tree,  whose  white  tassels  wave 
in  the  clustering  forests. 

"  You  are  determined,  then,  not  to  exchange  rings  with 
me  ?"  said  I,  twisting  my  gold  one  on  my  finger. 

He  looked  embarrassed. 

"  You  cannot,  I  perceive,"  said  he,  "  enter  into  my 
feelings  on  this  subject.  I  confess  that  they  are  foolishly 
romantic  ;  but  my  imagination  has  been  so  long  enlisted, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  me  immediately  to  divest  myself 
of  it3  influence.  If  any  one  could  wean  me  from  the 
unknown  lady  of  my  vow — "  a  few  more  words  were 
said  in  a  low  tone,  but  they  were  words  of  mere  gal- 
N 


146  RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A 

lantry,  and  convinced  me  that  his  heart  was  with  his 
vow,  and  not  with  me. 

I  escaped  to  the  drawing-room  with  some  light  jest, 
such  as  often  comes  up,  like  the  vapour  of  Niagara,  from 
a  woman's  heart,  when  a  wild  and  struggling  current  is 
rushing  below.  The  ceremonious  courtesy,  the  gay 
farewell,  the  presented  cake,  soon  occupied  me,  until 
each  had  received  their  proper  gift,  and  the  last  negro, 
with  his  written  pass,  was  treading  the  quiet  streets  of  the 
guarded  city. 

Dreams  are  odd  things.  I  was  dreaming  that  night 
that  the  Cham  of  Tartary  had  ordered  his  kingdom  to  be 
searched  for  a  lady  whose  great  toe  should  be  small 
enough  to  fit  a  gold  thimble.  His  chief  governor,  with 
his  staff  of  office,  was  superintending  the  thrusting  of 
mine  into  its  shining  prison,  when  the  merciless  city  ne- 
groes, with  their  fiddles  and  tamborines,  came  to  salute 
the  married  pair  with  their  customary  daybreak  music. 
I  roused  Cely  to  throw  them  their  fee,  and  they  departed  ; 
but  I  had  lost  the  Cham  of  Tartary's  gold  thimble. 

I  will  make  no  lamentations  over  papa's  old  wine,  nor 
reflections  on  the  conduct  of  young  men  who,  forgetting 
the  sanctity  of  private  life,  think  that  a  wedding,  instead 
of  presenting  a  scene  of  solemn,  and  tender,  and  elevated 
thought,  must  be  a  signal  for  intemperate  revel ;  nor  hint 
at  the  frowning  glances  of  those  who  were  overlooked  in 
the  invitations,  nor  at  the  petty  scandal  of  those  who 
were  there  ;  it  is  sufficient  that  the  morning  sun  rose 
brightly  on  Anna,  the  heroine  of  the  hour,  and  that  her 
heart  folded  its  fluttering  wing,  and  reposed  in  joy  in  her 
husband's  love. 

The  bridal  party  left  town  that  day  for  the  Elms. 
Nature  was  too  in  her  bridal  robe,  and  glittered  in  April 
smiles  and  tears,  like  her  who  was  welcomed  in  tender 
gayety  to  her  new  home. 

At  twilight  music  was  heard  approaching,  and  a  large 
party  of  negroes  came  with  their  instruments,  singing  a 
welcome.  They  walked  three  times  round  the  house, 
playing,  "  Joy  to  the  bride,"  "  Come,  haste  to  the  wed- 
ding," and  other  tunes.     As  they  passed  the  door,  some 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  147 

of  them  peeped  at  us,  but  they  were  too  bashful  to  enter  ; 
at  length  one  old  woman  gained  courage  to  come  in,  and, 
dropping  a  courtesy,  handed  Anna  a  calibash  of  eggs. 
Anna  shook  hands  with  ner^  and,  at  Lewis's  suggestion, 
who  told  her  that  the  people  would  not  retire  until  they 
saw  her,  she  went  to  the  piazza. 

They  were  delighted  with  her  appearance  ;  eggs  were 
handed  her  in  all  directions,  and  they  renewed  their 
songs  and  dances. 

Among  the  number,  though  a  little  apart,  stood  a 
young  woman  with  an  infant.  She  appeared  not  to  no- 
tice the  departure  of  the  others,  but  lingered  by  the  steps, 
dancing"  her  infant  in  her  arms,  uttering  unintelligible 
sounds ;  while  as  she  pointed  now  to  Anna,  now  to  her 
infant,  her  face  wore  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  Poor  Bella!"  said  Lewis,  "she  is  deaf  and  dumb." 

As  Bella  turned  to  go,  some  wild  boys  among  the 
people,  who  had  been  excited  by  the  music  and  dancing, 
came  to  her  and  threatened,  half  playfully,  to  take  her 
child  from  her  arms. 

A  howl,  wild,  long,  and  fearful,  burst  from  the  dumb 
creature  as  she  clasped  the  baby  more  closely  to  her 
bosom. 

It  was  not  the  last  time  that  I  was  to  hear  that  cry. 


148  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MY    POOR    COUSIN    ANNA. 

"My  flower,  my  blighted  flower  ;  thou  that  wert  made 
For  the  kind  fostering  of  sweet  summer  airs, 
How  hath  the  storm  been  with  thee  !     Lay  thy  head 
On  this  true  breast  again,  my  gentle  one ! 
And  tell  me  all." 

Mrs.  Hemans'  English  Martyrs. 

A  week  had  flown  as  weeks  will  flee  with  the  young 
and  happy,  when  Lewis  was  summoned  away  on  busi- 
ness, to  return,  however,  the  following  day.  I  need  not 
describe  the  parting  caress,  the  laughing  delay,  the  half- 
bashful  recall,  hand  lingering  in  hand,  the  jest  mocking 
the  sigh,  and  the  smile  struggling  with  the  tear.  Who 
has  not  loved  1     Who  has  not  parted  1 

At  length,  with  spirits  elastic  as  boyhood,  he  sprang 
over  the  balustrade,  gathered  a  sweet  rose,  and,  shaking 
the  dew  from  its  petals,  passed  it  between  the  railings  to 
Anna,  and  said, 

"  Put  it  in  your  hair,  dearest ;  there  is  another  on  the 
stem  which  will  bloom  to-morrow ;  come  here  in  the 
morning  and  gather  it  for  my  return." 

Anna  smiled  as  she  placed  the  rose  in  her  hair,  and 
her  blush  was  as  richly  tinged  as  the  flower ;  yet  even 
for  this  short  parting  her  heart  was  full,  and  the  smile 
of  her  lips  was  subdued  by  the  sudden  sadness  of  her 
eyes. 

Lewis  mounted  his  horse,  and  his  gaze  said,  as  plainly 
as  words  could  do,  that  she  was  all  the  world  to  him — 
and  this  is  no  faint  test  of  a  woman's  power  ;  for  if  there 
is  a  moment  when  a  youth  forgets  everything  in  creation 
but  himself,  it  is  when,  standing  before  an  admiring  group, 
he  pats  his  noble  steed,  leaps  to  the  saddle,  sits  erect 
as  Olympian  Jove,  and  then  springs  away  before  the 
free  air  of  heaven. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  149 


The  sight  of  his  parting  glance  lingered  long  upon  my 
thoughts  ;  and  often,  in  after  years,  has  it  risen  to  me,  its 
brightness  sadly  contrasted  by  his  fate,  like  sunshine  on 
ct  ruin.  I  have  since  dwelt  until  thought  became  agony 
on  the  probable  circumstances  of  that  day.  I  have  fan- 
cied the  full  stream  of  joy  that  gushed  up  in  his  heart,  as 
he  rode  cheerfully  along  the  avenue  of  his  paternal  home, 
where  the  oaks,  throwing  their  vast  arms  from  side  to 
side,  their  mossy  drapery  waving  in  the  air,  rustled  a  kind 
farewell ;  while  the  Ashley,  with  its  clear  waters,  looked 
from  its  wooded  banks,  and  bade  him  God  speed ;  and 
the  far  sky  that  blesses  all  pierced  the  thick  boughs 
above,  and  smiled  upon  his  way.  I  have  fancied  the 
older  negroes  (for  he  was  their  pride)  greeting  him  with 
respectful  salutations,  and  the  younger  ones  (to  whom 
he  was  both  a  terror  and  a  playmate)  turning  up  their 
white  eyes  with  a  smile  of  familiar  recognition  as  they 
sought  the  sunniest  bank.  I  have  fancied  him  commu- 
ning with  his  own  heart  (for  his  feelings  were  as  strong 
in  good  as  in  evil),  pondering  schemes  of  benevolence, 
in  which  Anna  was  to  be  his  dear  assistant,  and  looking 
forward  to  a  sphere  of  usefulness  and  happiness. 

I  have  since  dwelt  on  the  terrific  change  in  this  dream 
of  joy.  I  have  imagined,  until  the  figures  stood  before 
me  with  a  reality  that  made  me  shudder,  his  encounter 
with  an  enemy.  I  knew  too  well  the  whirlwind  of  his 
passions.  I  had  seen  him,  when  a  boy,  dash  himself  on 
the  ground  and  clinch  the  grass,  when  his  will  was 
thwarted — I  had  seen  his  hand  raised  in  sudden  impulse 
against  an  inferior — I  had  heard  him  in  manhood  curse 
one  of  the  purest  and  best  beings  that  ever  walked  in  the 
likeness  of  God,  and  I  felt  that  such  passions,  if  not  re- 
strained by  the  gentle  teachings  and  strong  inward  power 
of  Christianity,  might  work  his  ruin.  I  have  mused  on 
these  things  painfully,  fearfully.  I  have  fancied  a  death- 
struggle  on  that  day  in  the  forest  without  an  observer, 
save  the  lofty  trees  in  their  cold  grandeur  ;  a  cry  unan- 
swered but  by  the  moaning  winds. 

Poor  impetuous  Lewis  !  a  moral  rises  from  your  name- 
N  2 


150  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

less  grave — the  Ashley  murmurs  it  in  its  gliding  current, 
once  perchance  tinged  with  your  blood  ;  and  the  forest- 
breeze  whispers  in-  the  thoughtful  ear  a  warning  to  un- 
governed  passions. 


On  the  morning  after  his  departure,  An«a  gathered  the 
fresh  rosebud,  and  twined  it  in  her  hair.  As  I  saw  her 
beaming  eyes  turned  to  the  avenue,  I  felt  that  her  loveli- 
ness was  not  for  the  crowd,  but  for  retirement ;  that  re- 
tirement where  the  student. should  sometimes  sojourn  to 
pour  out  the  breathings  of  unnamed  hopes  ;  where  the 
wordly  should  look  a  while  at  what  God  has  done ;  and 
where  romantic  youth  should  still  its  volatile  pulses,  and 
feel  in  nature  the  nerving  presence  of  Divinity. 

The  day  passed — twilight  approached,  and  Lewis 
came  not.  Anna  walked  the  piazza*with  a  restless  step. 
She  touched  her  guitar,  its  notes  were  sickly  ;  her  kit- 
ten rubbed  its  silken  fur  against  her  ankle,  Anna  gave  her 
no  answering  caress  ;  she  sang  a  few  notes  of  a  song, 
they  sank  into  a  sigh. 

"  Let  us  go  and  meet  him,"  said  she,  impatiently. 

Followed  by  our  attendants,  we  strolled  arm  in  arm 
through  the  avenue.  We  reached  its  termination,  and 
strained  our  eyes  through  the  increasing  gloom.  No 
moving  object  was  visible  but  the  cattle,  gleaning  the 
springing  herbage.  Darkness  settled  quietly  over  the 
heavens,  unconscious  of  the  saddened  hearts  it  shaded ; 
star  by  star  looked  down  from  above ;  the  owl  sounded 
from  the  distant  thickets  ;  and  the  nearer  whippoorwill  ut- 
tered her  sad  lament.  Anna  and  I  returned  in  silence. 
Was  there  a  presentiment  of  evil  I  She  burst  into  tears, 
and  Anna  rarely  wept.  I  cheered  her,  and  twined  my 
arms  around  her,  and  told  her  of  the  thousand  causes 
that  might  delay  our  Lewis,  and  kissed  her  precious  fore- 
head, and  wiped  her  tears,  but  still  they  flowed. 

Days  rolled  on,  and  no  tidings  were  gained  of  the  wan- 
derer. The  forest  was  searched  while  a  ray  of  hope 
remained.  Its  picturesque  loneliness  was  broken  by 
friends  straining  their  eager  eyes  for  a  relic  of  their  lost 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  151 

favourite ;  by  mercenaries,  who  sometimes  forgot  the 
promised  reward  in  interest  for  the  noble  youth ;  by  In- 
dians, fleet  of  foot  and  keen  of  sight,  who  were  employed 
in  the  pursuit. ;  and  not  seldom  were  seen  in  those  gloomy 
woods  two  females,  whom  once  the  hare  on  its  track 
would  have  startled,  but  who  boldly  braved  that  solitude 
for  him. 

Poor  Anna  !  she  ceased  to  eat,  to  sleep  ;  her  only  re- 
lief was  in  exploring  the  untracked  woods.  A  feverish 
restlessness  wrought  on  her  soul  and  body.  The  voice, 
the  footstep  of  a  messenger  sent  the  blood  with  an  elec- 
trical rush  to  her  face,  which  melted  away  again  to  pale- 
ness. Her  eyes  were  wandering,  and  her  words  few, 
as  we  rode  on  horseback  through  the  forests  for  hours, 
attended  by  Selim,  a  faithful  family  servant.  Often, 
wearied  out  with  penetrating  the  gloomiest  spots  in  si- 
lence, I  besought  her  to  return  ;  but  her  cheek  kindled 
and  her  voice  rose  in  anger,  and  I  had  not  the  heart 
to  thwart  her. 

A  few  days  passed  thus,  and  I  was  terrified  by  the  in- 
creasing eccentricity  of  her  movements  ;  at  length,  one 
day,  when  a  few  miles  from  home,  she  called  me  to  her, 
with  a  mysterious  but  fixed  look,  and  I  guided  my  horse 
close  to  hers.  It  was  a  bright,  clear  morning,  the  birds 
were  singing  among  the  trees  ;  our  woods  were  glowing 
with  flowers,  and  yet  she  said,  whispering, 

"  I  am  weary  of  looking  for  him  in  this  darkness.  I 
see  chattering  faces  peeping  from  behind  every  tree, 
mocking  me;  but  I  have  a  voice  left;  I  can  call  him, 
cousin."  Then  straining  every  nerve,  she  began  to 
shout  the  name  of  Lewis  in  long,  piercing,  unsuspended 
accents.  The  echoes  took  up  the  shrill  and  fearful  sound, 
and  the  woods  were  vocal  with  his  name.  I  entreated, 
commanded  her  to  be  silent ;  she  heeded  me  no  more 
than  the  winds  among  the  pine  tops  ;  still  went  up  the 
cry,  and  echo  still  shouted  back  the  name. 

I  dismounted,  and  called  old  Selim  to  assist  me  in  ta- 
king her  from  her  horse  ;  she  was  passive,  but  still  her 
shrieks  rent  the  air  and  curdled  my  inmost  soul.  I  sat 
on  the  grass  and  took  her  in  my  arms ;  I  reasoned  with 


152  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

her  ;  I  called  her  by  every  endearing  name  :  I  laid  her 
head  on  my  bosom ;  I  pressed  my  hand  gently  over  her 
starting  eyes,  and  smoothed  the  glossy  waves  of  her  beau- 
tiful hair ;  it  was  useless  ;  still  rang  the  cry — then  my 
tears  fell  fast  upon  her  face,  and  old  Selim,  kneeling  by 
her  side,  prayed  aloud. 

At  length,  a  sudden  instinct  prompted  me  to  bend  my 
lips  to  her  ear  and  sing  the  name  of  Lewis.  I  chose  a 
plaintive  Methodist  air,  in  which  he  had  often  joined  with 
us  on  Sabbath  evenings,  uttering  only  his  name.  Grad- 
ually her  voice  lowered — sank  to  a  murmur — she  was 
still — she  slept. 

From  this  day  she  sank,  oh  how  rapidly  !  It  is  fearful 
to  trace  decay  in  one  so  young,  and  who  had  been  so  fair. 
No  bright  hectic  lighted  up  her  cheek  ;  no  light  brightened 
in  her  eye  ;  the  destroyer  laid  his  hand  cold,  hard,  and 
sudden  upon  her  frame  :  her  form  shrivelled ;  her  feet 
shrank  in  her  small  slippers  ;  her  lips  were  pale  ;  her  eye 
became  glassy  and  dim ;  her  fingers  stood  out  lean  and 
blue  from  her  white  robe  ;  and  when  her  wedding-ring 
fell,  she  was  too  feeble  to  regain  it ;  a  harsh  contraction 
gathered  on  her  polished  brow  ;  she  spoke  but  little,  and 
then  gasped  forth  hurried  words,  hoarse  and  thick ;  oh 
how  unlike  the  silver  tones  of  her  happier  days  ! 

She  daily  tottered  to  the  spot  on  the  piazza  where  she 
parted  from  her  young  husband,  and  broke  buds  and 
leaves  from  the  bush  whence  he  gathered  his  last  rose. 
It  had  risen  in  spring  luxuriance,  and  thrust  its  foliage 
through  the  paling.  When  too  feeble  to  visit  the  piazza, 
her  easy-chair  was  drawn  to  the  window,  where  she 
could  gaze  on  it ;  and  there  she  sat,  uncomplaining  and 
unenjoying,  except  when  a  rose  was  brought  to  her,  and 
then  her  white  lips  would  open  with  a  piteous  smile  as 
she  placed  it  in  her  neglected  hair. 

We  talked  to  her  of  heaven,  of  her  duty.  Alas  !  her 
mind  was  a  wreck ;  the  golden  bowl  was  broken  !  Her 
look  was  never  upward  ;  it  was  still,  still  on  the  summer 
rose-bush. 

We  removed  her  to  Springland  as  the  sickly  season 
advanced.  It  was  heart-breaking  to  see  her  look  back  to 
the  rose-bush  as  she  was  lifted  to  the  carriage. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  153 

One  day  a  stranger  came  and  presented  me  unexpect- 
edly with  Lewis's  pocketbook.  He  had  found  it  when 
hunting  by  the  river's  bank,  at  some  distance  from  the 
main  road.  He  stated  that  the  bushes  were  crushed  near 
the  spot,  and  deep  indentations,  as  of  struggling  footsteps, 
in  the  soil. 

I  gave  it  to  Anna ;  she  uttered  a  thrilling  scream  of  joy, 
grasped  it  with  her  poor  hands,  and  looked  wistfully  in 
my  face. 

"  Open  it,  dearest,"  said  I ;  and  the  tears  fell  fast  from 
my  eyes.     "  It  is  our  own  Lewis's." 

She  unfastened  the  strap  with  her  feeble  fingers,  and 
taking  out  each  paper,  one  by  one,  glanced  at  them  as  if 
they  were  familiar  to  her,  until  she  saw  one  written  in 
pencil.  It  bore  the  date  of  his  departure,  and  was  evi- 
dently a  romantic  burst  of  his"  thoughts  in  the  solitude 
of  the  forests. 

Anna  began  to  read  the  following  stanzas  aloud  ;  her 
voice,  broken  and  husky  at  first,  gradually  strengthened 
with  the  unusual  effort,  until  it  resumed  something  of  its 
natural  sweetness ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  her  ghastly 
paleness,  there  would  have  been  something  too  in  her 
eyes  of  that  expression,  which  once  melted  every  beholder. 

THOUGHTS  IN  A  SOUTHERN  FOREST. 

"  Cheerless  to  me  ye  do  not  seem, 
Tall  pines,  that  hide  the  solar  beam, 

And  stand  in  close  array  ; 
Nor  when,  like  warriors  stern  and  tall, 
By  the  swart  woodman's  axe  ye  fall, 

Still  ponderous  in  decay. 

How  proudly  soars  each  stately  head, 
With  clouds  for  crowning  plumage  spread, 

And  helms  of  living  green  ! 
I  love  to  see  the  solemn  bend 
To  which  your  lofty  forms  ye  lend 

When  breezes  wake  unseen. 

Fit  music  are  the  rushing  sounds 
With  which  the  lonely  wood  abounds 

For  your  majestic  file, 
When  autumn  winds,  with  rushing  swell, 
Urged  on  by  ocean's  mighty  spell, 

Tell  you  to  stoop  a  while. 


154  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

Fit  death  for  you  the  fearful  crash 
Which,  at  the  lightning's  dazzling  flash, 

Lays  your  green  honours  low  ! 
And  fittest  dirge  the  wood-bird's  cry, 
When  to  their  frighted  young  they  fly, 

As  the  tall  branches  go. 

Not  here,  I  own,  not  here  arise 

Tall  spires,  that,  pointing  to  the  skies, 

Uplift  the  thought  sublime  ! 
Not  here  the  orchard  bursting  bright, 
Gives  flowers  and  fruitage  to  the  sight, 

As  in  some  distant  clime. 

Yet,  mistletoe,  not  sad  to  me, 
Thy  gathering  clusters  wander  free, 

Crowning  the  old  oak's  brow  ! 
Not  with  the  Druid's  timid  eye, 
I  see  thee  raise  the  banner  high, 

Which  woke  his  mystic  vow. 

Nor  mournful  floats  the  mossy  veil, 
Waving,  when  forest  breezes  wail, 

Within  the  cypress  grove  ; 
It  floated  on  my  boyish  sight, 
And  now  its  tendrils,  swinging  light, 

Win  my  familiar  love. 

And  see,  from  yonder  wooded  gloom, 
The  jasmine  opes  its  yellow  bloom, 

By  odours  sweet  betrayed ; 
Thus,  Anna  dear,  thy  loveliness 
Will  bloom,  with  gentle  power  to  bless 

Amid  life's  light  and  shade." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  my  Lewis  was  a  poet,"  said 
Anna ;  and  one  of  the  sad  smiles  she  gave  only  to  her 
roses  passed  over  her  features  as  she  laid  the  paper  next 
her  heart. 

Slowly  her  reason  began  to  gather  ;  large  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks,  and  sighs,  so  deep  that  her  frame  shook 
with  the  effort,  rose  from  her  breast. 

She  spoke  little  ;  but  her  eyes  were  upraised,  her 
hands  clasped  as  if  in  prayer  ;  and  from  this  moment  a 
secret  communication  seemed  established  between  herself 
and  Heaven. 

She  never  smiled  again.  I  am  wrong — the  night  be- 
fore her  death  she  beckoned  me  to  her,  and  taking  from 
her  bosom  Lewis's  stanzas,  she  showed  me  his  withered 
rose  in  the  paper's  folds,  and  smiled. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  155 

Death  had  little  to  do  to  crush  her  shattered  frame  ; 
he  checked  the  last  blue  veins  that  lingered  on  her  tem- 
ple ;  he  severed  the  almost  imperceptible  clasp  with 
which  she  retained  my  hand  ;  he  cast  a  film  more  dense 
over  her  azure  eye,  which,  with  its  last  look,  sought  mine  ; 
and  the  throbbings  of  one  of  the  softest  hearts  that  ever 
ached  under  the  burden  of  earth's  woes  were  still. 

She  only  whispered — 

"I  wish  I  could  have  shared  his  lonesome  grave." 

That  midsummer's  sun  shone  on  hers. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    PINE- LAND    VILLAGE. 

"  Death  is  beautiful — not  as  the  end  of  man,  not  as  the  extinction 
of  a  noble  and  wonderful  being,  not  as  the  final  result  and  close  of 
existence,  but  beautiful  in  its  time,  as  the  momentary  passage  to  a 
fairer  land ;  the  extrication  of  the  soul  from  its  temporary  dwelling- 
place,  the  resting  of  the  no  longer  needed  body  ;  the  free  ascent  of 
the  delivered  spirit  to  its  new  abode." — G.  Putnam. 

It  is  a  solemn  thing  when  death  passes  over  out 
homes.  Let  who  will  depart,  whether  it  be  the  infant; 
whose  faint  eye  scarcely  opens  on  the  creation  which  it 
is  so  soon  to  leave,  or  the  old  man,  whose  orbs,  weary 
and  dim,  are  closed  on  familiar  objects,  or  the  maiden, 
with  the  rose  bursting  on  her  cheek,  and  her  careless 
step  treading  lightly  on  the  earth  which  is  so  soon  to  re- 
ceive her,  or  the  young  man,  with  vigorous  frame  and 
active  mind,  looking  thoughtfully  into  the  mysterious  and 
the  true ;  whether  it  be  the  father,  towards  whom  his 
family  turn  like  flowers  to  the  sunbeam,  or  a  mother, 
whose  smile,  like  daylight,  was  scarcely  felt  in  its  con- 
stancy until  it  was  withdrawn  ;  no  matter  which  of  life's 
varied  relations  is  broken ;  no  matter  if  it  even  be  a 
stranger,  who,  without  claim  but  that  of  hospitality,  comes 
to  your  threshold  and  gives  up  his  lonely  spirit  to  God's 


156  RECOLLECTIONS   OP  A 

higher  household,  away  from  his  own  hearth-stone,  still 
it  is  death — there  is  its  stillness — its  shroud — its  fixed 
and  pale  repose  ;  the  voice  tells  not  its  wants — the  eye 
knows  not.  We  bend  over  the  stiffened  form,  and  turn 
away,  and  come  not  again,  for  it  is  death ;  perchance  we 
lift  the  bloodless  hand,  or  smooth  the  straying  hair — but 
only  once,  for  it  is  death,  and  we  are  chilled.  We  tread 
lightly — yet  the  dead  hear  not.  Why  does  the  boy  stop 
his  whistle  as  he  passes  that  door  1  Why  does  the  house- 
maid quicken  her  step  and  shade  her  eyes  just  there  as 
from  a  phantom  1 

Is  there  no  way  to  render  death  less  dark  and  un- 
lovely 1  Were  it  for  me  to  draw  its  image,  the  fleshless 
bone  and  the  darkened  scull  should  no  longer  image  forth 
its  horrors,  nor  the  hourglass  and  the  scythe  be  its  em- 
blems. It  should  be  sad,  for  death  is  sad — not  horrible. 
It  should  be  dressed  like  night,  with  dark  and  flowing 
robes,  and  solemn,  perhaps  uncertain  step  ;  but,  like 
night,  with  the  new  moon  lighting  up  her  sombre  man- 
tle, and  distant  stars,  images  of  far-off  life,  looking  down 
on  her  brow.  Sin  is  unlovely — is  monstrous  ;  but  death 
chould  only  be  unlovely  when  allied  with  her. 

And  yet  I  felt  its  bitterness.  Anna  was  gone.  My 
heart  stretched  forth  its  tendrils  and  they  fell,  unsup- 
ported by  her  sweet  sympathy.  Her  voice,  so  gentle  in 
its  youthful  joy,  was  hushed  ;  her  eye,  so  full  of  the  deep 
revelations  of  love  and  truth,  was  closed  for  ever ;  her 
step,  light  as  the  motion  of  an  elastic  flower,  was  arrest- 
ed ;  and  thus  it  fares,  one  by  one,  with  all  whom  we 
love :  but  it  is  well  for  us ;  "  the  branches  are  lopped 
from  the  tree,  that  the  trunk  may  fall  more  easily." 

I  was  sitting,  a  few  evenings  after  Anna's  death,  in 
the  piazza,  musing  on  her  fate.  This  had  been  a  favour- 
ite spot  and  favourite  hour  with  Duncan.  Throwing 
aside  books,  he  taught  me  from  the  great  book  of  nature  : 
he  had  anticipated  such  moments  as  the  present  for  me  ; 
he  had  told  me  of  the  probability  of  crushed  affections 
and  blighted  hopes.  He  drew  morals  from  surrounding 
objects  ;  for,  even  from  the  vacancy  and  barrenness  of  a 
pine-land  settlement,  his  mind  extracted  instruction — his 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  157 

rich  mind,  whose  spiritual  chymistry  could  convert  earth's 
vapours  into  heaven-tinged  clouds  ;  and  now  those  clouds, 
hidden  to  my  eyes  by  the  recent  glare  of  worldly  fash- 
ion, came  rolling  back  in  their  mellowed  brightness. 
Beautiful  force  of  virtue,  which,  though  sunk  beneath 
life's  horizon,  throws  up  its  rays  long  after  its  orb  has 
disappeared !  and  let  not  the  good  spirits  who  labour  on 
the  ground  of  the  human  heart  be  discouraged  ;  the  seed 
will  take  root,  some  blessed  words  will  shoot  down  into 
the  soil  of  the  affections,  and  spring  up  in  after  years. 

There  is  something  picturesque  in  the  evening  hour  at 
a  pine-land  village.  A  few  trees  are  cleared  away,  af- 
fording just  sufficient  room  for  a  house,  whose  white- 
washed palings  contrast  prettily  with  the  dark  hue  of  the 
pine ;  from  ten  to  thirty  of  these  constitute  a  village, 
where  planters  reside  during  the  summer  months.  A 
fire  is  kindled  at  twilight,  of  brush  or  lightwood  knots, 
near  every  house,  which,  while  it  drives  away  insects, 
gives  a  cheerful  illumination  to  the  scene. 

These  lights  had  just  begun  to  blaze,  one  by  one,  in 
the  growing  shadows  of  night,  while  the  paler  hue  of 
summer  lightning  broke  in  fitful  lustre  between  the  trees. 
Here  and  there  might  be  seen  a  negro,  his  dusky  form  in 
full  relief  against  the  glare  of  the  blazing  light ;  or  young 
ones,  dancing  and  singing  around  the  fire,  presenting  gro- 
tesque images  of  thoughtless  happiness  ;  or  a  procession 
of  neighbours,  preceded  by  linkboys,  passing  for  a  festival 
or  a  religious  service  ;  while  their  cheerful  human  sounds 
broke  pleasantly  the  song  of  the  night-bird,  or  the  un- 
wearied talk  of  the  winds  in  the  pine-tops. 

As  I  mused  deeply,  with  my  head  resting  on  the  win- 
dow-sill, a  string  of  Anna's  guitar  broke  within.  How 
trifles  sometimes  touch  the  soul !  I  lived  an  age  in  the 
little  time  until  its  awakened  vibrations  died  away  in 
silence  ;  but  they  did  die,  and  grief  gathered  up  its  unex- 
hausted stores,  and  I  wept. 

An  approaching  step  made  me  dry  my  tears,  but  they 
flowed  again,  for  it  was  Marion's — he  who  had  seen  our 
Anna  enthroned  on  love's  temple,  breathing  the  atmo- 
sphere of  hope  and  joy. 

O 


158  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

And  Marion,  God  be  thanked,  destroyed  not  the  pre* 
cious  lesson  of  affliction  which  the  Father  wisely  sent 
for  his  untutored  child ;  no  light  or  careless  word  from 
him  won  me  back  to  earth  ;  the  glow  of  religious  thought 
was  in  his  eye — a  holy  consolation  in  his  reasoning.  He 
drew  me  away  from  Anna's  grave — from  its  loneliness 
and  decay,  but  not  to  the  world ;  not  to  that  broken  cis- 
tern, but  to  the  spiritual  fountain  of  Christian  faith. 

Let  young  men  be  careful  of  woman's  highest  inter- 
ests. In  those  moments  of  prepossession  when  her  heart 
and  mind  instinctively  turn  to  model  themselves  on  his, 
whom  God  has  made  of  stronger  fabric,  let  him  not  sap 
those  foundations  of  religious  trust  which  may  hereafter 
be  dearer  to  him  than  her  young  loveliness,  and  winch, 
when  that  loveliness  has  faded  in  the  dust,  will  bloom 
and  ripen  in  a  better  world. 

Marion  breathed  not  a  word  of  love  or  preference,  but 
I  felt  elevated  by  his  sympathy,  by  the  thought  that  he 
considered  me  worthy  of  it ;  and  when  he  departed  that 
evening  there  was  a  rustling  as  of  happy  wings  unfold- 
ing in  my  inmost  heart,  and  I  was  comforted. 

But  still  my  spirits  and  health  failed  under  the  imme- 
diate influence  of  Anna's  loss,  and  papa,  believing  that 
our  retirement  rather  increased  than  softened  my  regrets, 
proposed  a  change  to  Sullivan's  Island.  Springland  was 
but  too  obnoxious  to  the  common  charge  against  pine- 
land  settlements,  extreme  dulness  or  extreme  dissipa- 
tion. There  were  there,  as  there  are  everywhere  else, 
well-tempered  minds  preserving  the  equilibrium  of  virtue, 
but  it  is  almost  impossible  to  secure  a  community  from 
dangerous  habits  in  a  territory,  realizing  in  its  monotony 
the  satirical  description  of  an  American  poet: — 

"  Where  to  the  north — pine-trees  in  prospect  rise, 
Where  to  the  south — pine-trees  assail  the  skies, 
Where  to  the  east — pine-trees  obstruct  the  view, 
Where  to  the  west — pine-trees  for  ever  grew." 

The  planter  misses  the  wide  range  of  his  fields,  and 
his  wife  and  daughters  the  bustle  of  the  city.  Happy 
they,  under  these  circumstances,  who  shun,  on  one  hand, 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  159 

the  unhallowed  amusements  of  associated  pleasure-hunt- 
ers, and  the  chilling  influence  of  seclusion  on  the  other. 

How  often  have  I  blessed  my  needle  for  rescuing  me 
from  the  temptations  which  assail  the  other  sex  ! 

Bright  and  innocent  little  implement,  whether  plied 
over  tasteful  luxuries,  or  gaining  the  poor  pittance  of  a 
day,  thou  art  equally  the  friend  of  her  whose  visions  tend 
to  wander  amid  the  regions  of  higher  abstractions,  and 
of  her  whose  thoughts  are  pinned  down  to  the  tread-mill 
of  thy  minute  progress.  Quiet  rescuer  from  clubs  and 
midnight  revels,  amid  the  minor  blessings  of  woman's 
lot,  thou  shalt  not  be  forgotten !  Still  come,  and  let  thy 
fairy  wand  shine  on  her ;  still  lend  an  ambitious  joy  to 
the  playthings  of  the  girl ;  still  move  unconsciously  un- 
der the  glittering  smile  of  the  maiden  planning  thy  tri- 
umphant results ;  still  beguile  the  mother  whose  thought 
roves  to  her  boy  on  the  distant  ocean,  or  the  daughter 
watching  by  the  sick-bed  of  one  who  has  heretofore  toiled 
for  her ;  still  sooth  the  long,  dreary  moments  of  faithful 
love  ;  and,  though  a  tear  sometimes  fall  on  thy  shining 
point,  it  shall  not  gather  the  rust  of  despair,  since  employ- 
ment is  thy  dower. 


160  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

sullivan's  island. 

"  Thus,  thus  the  sunny  day  went  by, 

And  night  came  brooding  o'er  the  seas  ; 
A  thick  cloud  swarthed  the  distant  sky, 
And  hollow  murmurs  fill'd  the  breeze." 

S.  G.  Goodrich. 

"  A  whirling  ocean  now  fills  the  wall 
Of  the  chystal  heaven,  and  buries  all ; 
And  I,  cut  off  from  the  world,  remain 
Alone  with  the  terrible  hurricane." 

Bryant. 

There  are  no  two  scenes  more  widely  different  than 
a  pine-land  settlement  and  Sullivan's  Island.  The  hum 
of  business  or  pleasure  now  sounds  at  the  Cove,  but  the 
more  remote  part  of  it  is  lonely  in  the  extreme.  A  plan- 
tation is  solitary  ;  shut  out  from  the  noise  of  the  world, 
surrounded  by  a  vast  amphitheatre  of  trees,  its  occupants 
see  little  but  the  wide  fields  around,  the  graduated  foliage 
in  the  distance,  and  the  over-arching  sky ;  but  then  the 
large  negro  family  is  there,  claiming  and  giving,  in  a 
thousand  ways,  human  recognition.  A  pine-land  village 
is  secluded ;  files  of  trees  shut  out  there  even  the  sky  ; 
the  world  is  heard  not ;  the  resident  rises  to  a  monotonous 
routine,  and  sleeps  but  to  rise  for  the  same  quiet  duties, 
or  thrice-told  pleasures  ;  but  still  the  habitations  cluster 
in  comparative  nearness  ;  the  night  fire  blazes  cheerfully  ; 
and  oh,  how  faithfully  does  kind  neighbourhood  come 
forth  in  sickness,  and  tell  the  sufferer  he  is  not  in  solitude. 
But  there  is  little  to  soften  the  loneliness  of  the  more  re- 
mote residences  on  Moultrieville.  Our  dwelling  stood 
alone,  on  a  sandy  eminence,  with  the  broad  beach  in  the 
front  distance,  and  wild  myrtles  scantily  rising  as  a 
dwarf  shrubbery  behind.  Nothing  was  to  be  heard  but 
the  dreamy  dashing  of  the  waves,  or  the  curlew's  cry ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  161 

nothing  seen  but  what  the  ocean  offered — the  porpoise 
raising  its  unwieldy  form  in  the  waters,  the  passing  sail, 
whose  distance  rather  adds  to  the  feeling  of  separation 
from  human  ties,  and  the  seabird  winging  its  unwearied 
flight. 

Yet  in  this  solitude  I  breathed  a  free  spiritual,  as  well 
as  physical  atmosphere.  I  communed  with  the  winds, 
and  the  waves,  and  the  stars,  and  they  gave  back  an- 
swers to  my  heart,  thrilling,  yet  sobering.  It  was  a  joy 
to  stand  on  the  beach,  and  see  the  setting  sun  with  its 
glow  of  glory  lighting  up  sky  and  sea  ;  to  note  the  stars, 
as  day  declined,  marshalled  in  their  shining  courses,  at 
first  singly,  then  in  countless  numbers  ;  to  watch  the 
light-house  beacon,  man's  faint  competitor  with  those 
higher  watches  ;  to  see  the  young  moon  rising  with  faint 
crescent,  beautiful  as  growing  youth  ;  to  note  its  progress 
night  by  night,  until  it  burst  in  silvery  radiance,  making 
the  dark  waves  glorious.  And  it  was  a  joy  to  feel  in  my 
inmost  soul  a  capacity  to  appreciate  what  was  great  and 
fair,  to  rise  in  bright  abstractions,  and  throw  from  me  all 
that  was  earthly,  and  feel  that  my  higher  powers  would 
thus  brilliantly  light  up,  when  the  mortal  part  should 
moulder  in  the  grave ;  to  clasp  my  hands  in  unuttered 
prayer,  to  weep  tears  of  sacred  happiness.  This  was 
the  privilege  of  my  new  solitude,  and  my  soul  grew  in 
the  process  ;  it  was  part  of  the  heavenly  training  by 
which,  I  trust,  God  is  leading  me  to  a  more  spiritual  ex- 
istence. This  is  not  romance  ;  it  is  the  feeling  of  youth, 
and  will  be  understood  by  minds  not  yet  fettered  by  the 
world. 

There  were  other  pleasures  at  the  island  not  so  ele- 
vating, but  more  social,  and  almost  defying  solitude.  I 
loved  to  see  my  brothers  and  the  young  negroes  revelling 
in  the  waves,  as  Rover,  intoxicated  with  delight,  now 
dashing  into  the  water,  now  shaking  his  dripping  sides, 
seemed  to  feel  himself  the  monarch  of  the  scene,  while 
little  Patsey,  carried  by  her  maumer,  dipped  her  dimpled 
feet  into  the  shallow  wave  ;  then,  clinging  to  her  nurse's 
neck,  uttered  a  cry,  half  fear,  half  joy  ;  then  grew  mors 
bold,  until,  with  a  shuddering  delight,  she  permitted  the 
0  2 


162  RECOLLECTIONS    OE   A 

coming  waves  to  dash  her  limbs,  gleaming  through  the 
element  like  a  rose-tinged  shell. 

Then  what  joyous  shouts  went  up  from  the  beach  from 
the  boys'  games,  the  skipping  rope,  the  bounding  ball, 
the  kite,  while  I  searched  for  shells,  or  wrote,  in  idle 
musings,  names  on  the  level  sands,  or  rode  on  horseback 
on  the  sea-washed  plain,  where  the  fresh  breeze  in  my 
face  inspired  health  and  spirits. 

But  life's  pictures  are  not  all  sunny  ;  clouds  will  gather, 
storms  must  rise,  and  whirlwinds  sweep  over  our  path. 

There  came  occasionally  from  town  to  visit  us  an  old 
military  friend  of  my  grandfather's.  It  was  a  great 
pleasure  to  us  to  hear  Captain  Hyam's  stories,  to  stroll 
about  the  island,  as  he  painted  out  scenes  of  historical 
interest ;  and  it  was  a  touching  sight  to  see  an  old  man, 
on  that  spot  sacred  to  so  many  patriotic  associations, 
leading  the  boys'  young  minds  from  their  sports  to  their 
country's  story. 

One  afternoon  we  strolled  to  the  cove  to  observe  the 
arrival  of  the  packet-boats,  bringing  from  the  city  their 
customary  motley  group.  There  were  reclining  invalids, 
with  their  eyes  shooting  a  sudden  brilliancy,  as  the  sea» 
breeze  swept  over  their  languid  brows  ;  sickly  infants, 
seizing  the  first  relished  morsel ;  the  happy  and  healthy, 
who  would  fain  add  another  tinge  to  a  blooming  cheek. 
There  was  the  mechanic,  generously  recreating  his  in. 
dustrious  family,  the  professional  man  escaping  from  the 
stifling  court-room,  the  chamber  of  disease,  or  the  se- 
cluded study,  to  feel  the  Atlantic  breeze,  untainted  by 
human  breathing,  and  gaze  on  the  clear  heavens  and  un- 
fettered sea.  I  will  not  enter  on  this  innocent  catalogue 
those  whose  motives  are  gross  and  impure  ;  the  sensual- 
ist and  the  gambler,  who  dare  to  sojourn  where  God's 
mercies  rush  by  in  purifying  love,  and  whose  stagnant 
souls  are  untouched  with  sensibility  by  the  wave  or  the 
breeze. 

The  younger  passengers,  scattered  in  various  parties, 
shouted  in  the  fulness  of  excitement  as  they  gained  the 
front  beach ;  shoes  and  stockings  were  doffed,  pantaloons 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  163 

rolled  up,  and,  followed  by  their  coloured  attendants,  they 
sang  and  danced  in  the  coming  and  retreating  waves. 

How  happy  were  they  all ;  true,  there  were  no  hills 
rising  in  magnificence  to  meet  the  sky ;  no  sloping  fields 
winding  gracefully  to  the  shore ;  no  rocks  stationed  like 
guardians  round  the  coast ;  but  there  was  enough  that 
was.  beautiful  and  glorious  for  the  old,  exciting  and  cheer- 
ing to  the  young.  Generous  boys  and  gentle  girls  in  in- 
nocent joy  resorted  there,  gathered  rough  shells,  and  threw 
them  in  the  dark  waters  ;  greeted  their  conscious  dog  as  he 
came  dripping,  with  some  prize,  from  the  surge ;  wrote 
sweet  names  on  the  beach ;  ran  and  shouted  in  careless 
laughter  against  the  breeze,  or  mused  on  those  thoughts 
which  come  even  to  childhood  from  the  bounding  sea. 

Captain  Hyam  was  one  of  the  passengers,  and  our 
boys  engaged  him  for  a  shooting  ramble  to  the  curlew- 
ground,  while  I  wondered  how  they  could  have  the  heart 
to  disturb  the  flight  of  the  birds  in  their  aerial  processions, 
now  mingling  as  if  for  consultation,  now  extending  in  a 
pencilled  line,  lengthening,  until  lost  in  the  viewless  air. 
I  remonstrated  against  destroying  them,  and  won  my 
cause,  by  attaching  to  the  captain's  watch  a  riband,  on 
which  I  had  wrought,  in  gold  letters,  28th  June,  1776. 

Our  good  old  friend  consented  to  remain  with  us,  and 
we  lingered  on  the  beach,  so  delicious  in  its  coolness 
after  a  sultry  day.  Nature  was  as  bright  as  our  feelings. 
A  few  large,  pillowy  clouds  rested  beneath  the  heavens, 
softening,  but  not  obscuring  the  declining  autumnal  sun ; 
the  city,  with  its  spires,  rose  in  the  distance ;  the  light- 
house, beautiful  emblem  of  hope  and  safety,  towered  on 
one  side ;  and  on  the  other  the  main,  with  its  level  ver- 
dure, seemed  like  a  fringe  of  green  on  the  azure  horizon. 
Pleasure-boats  were  darting  from  the  cove,  the  rocking 
skiff  of  the  fisherman  lay  easily  on  the  waves,  and  the 
majestic  merchantman  passed  through  the  channel  with 
its  freighted  stores. 

Some  there  were  who,  on  that  day,  had  looked  with 
prescient  fear  on  the  clouds  and  fancied  evil,  and  the  ac- 
customed ear  detected  the  roar  of  a  distant  swell  upon 
the  ocean. 


154  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

The  clouds  rapidly  deepened  at  twilight,  and  the  wind 
rose,  but  we  closed  the  shutters,  and  gathered  round  our 
evening  lamp  without  alarm.  As  we  sat  chatting  at  the 
table,  a  sudden  gust  shook  our  dwelling,  and  a  drizzling 
rain  began  to  fall ;  it  increased  ;  in  an  hour  it  poured  in 
torrents,  and  the  building  rocked  like  an  infant's  cradle. 
A  sudden  silence  prevailed  among  our  circle,  and  we 
spoke  low,  or  uttered  strong  ejaculations.  I  was  fearfully 
alarmed  ;  and  as  each  gust  came,  with  its  roaring  accom- 
paniment of  angry  waves,  I  could  scarcely  restrain  my 
cry.  I  felt  the  blood  rush  to  my  heart ;  my  eyes  seemed 
starting  from  their  sockets,  and  I  covered  them  with  my 
hands  to  shut  out,  if  I  could,  the  threat  of  nature. 

Suddenly  the  recollection  of  Charles  Duncan's  teach- 
ings of  God  in  his  providence  came  to  my  mind.  I  re- 
membered how  he  had  once  gently  drawn  my  hands 
from  my  eyes,  and  told  me  that  Heaven's  best  messages 
were  sometimes  heralded  by  storms.  I  remembered 
this,  and  the  spirit's  prayer  was  awakened,  and  a  trust  in 
God  followed  like  a  brooding  wing,  spreading  itself 
over  my  fluttering  heart,  and  though  I  trembled,  I  was 
calm. 

A  knocking  at  the  door  was  heard  in  a  pause  of  the 
wind,  and  two  individuals  hurried  in  drenched  with  rain. 

"  How  fortunate,"  exclaimed  one,  advancing,  and 
panting  with  his  efforts,  "  to  find  you.  My  friend  and  I 
were  seeking  his  house  in  vain,  and  your  piazza-light 
guided  us  here." 

It  was  Marion,  and  for  a  while  I  forgot  the  storm. 
But  it  approached,  and  rose  and  rose  like  some  living 
monster  preparing  itself  for  a  death-struggle,  until  the 
waves  lifted  the  piazza.  It  was  no  longer  safe,  and  we 
looked  abroad  in  desperation,  while  our  voices  could 
scarcely  be  heard  amid  the  roar  of  the  elements.  Mo- 
ving masses  of  ruins  were  seen  floating  on  the  white 
foam  ;  beyond,  all  was  intense  darkness.  Collecting  the 
servants,  we  resolved  to  leave  the  house  by  the  back  en- 
trance, as  yet  not  reached  by  the  tide,  and  attempt  to 
gain  the  fort.  Our  dear  little  Patsey,  still  sleeping  in 
the  arms  of  her  nurse  Binah,  a  strong  and  active  woman, 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  165 

was  in  the  centre  of  the  group.  The  darkness  seemed 
supernatural,  and  we  soon  approached  a  gully,  where 
the  tide  was  rushing  on  to  intercept  our  way.  For  a 
short  time  a  shout,  a  word  of  encouragement,  a  faint 
jest  had  been  heard,  but  this  was  now  hushed ;  there 
was  an  awful  pause,  too,  in  the  elements  ;  it  seemed  that 
nature  was  preparing  a  nervous  heave ;  and  clinging  to 
each  other,  we  thought  to  die  together.  It  came — the 
gale  rushed  with  ten  thousand  voices,  thundering  on, 
roaring  and  raging  over  bursting  waves  ;  we  clung  to 
each  other  still  more  firmly,  but  we  were  parted  as 
easily  as  gossamer  tufts  in  the  south  winds  of  summer. 
One  arm  I  still  felt  grasping  mine  with  a  nervous  force, 
one  voice  was  left  to  me,  and  it  said,  "  We  must  think 
of  death — it  is  at  hand  ;  prayer  is  not  new  to  us,  my  dear 
Miss  Wilton  ;  God  will  hear  us  now." 

We  groped  in  the  darkness,  but  rather  sought  to  return 
than  advance,  for  we  could  see  by  the  moving  foam  that 
water  was  before  us.  We  reached  a  building,  and  as- 
cended the  steps ;  it  was  my  own  home,  and  no  longer 
in  danger,  for  the  wind  had  changed,  and  to  the  waves 
had  been  said,  Thus  far  shall  ye  go  and  no  farther.  But 
I  felt  bereaved  and  desolate  ;  there  stood  the  remnant 
of  our  evening  meal;  and  the  candles,  lighted  in  so  much 
mirth,  glimmered  dimly  in  the  wind  that  still  rushed 
through  the  crevices.  I  wept,  I  prayed,  and  the  night 
passed  by,  oh,  how  slowly ! 

The  morning  rose,  and  the  sun  shone  down  on  that 
scene  of  desolation.  One  servant  never  was  found,  but 
the  other  members  of  the  family  had  been  variously  pre- 
served. Some  fishermen,  at  the  early  dawn,  in  ascertain- 
ing the  fate  of  their  craft,  perceived  one  of  their  boats 
high  on  the  sand,  capsized,  and  resting  on  some  timbers. 
They  raised  it,  and  there  lay  Patsey,  our  little  cherub, 
wrapped  in  her  nurse's  apron,  and  sleeping  in  her  arms. 

But  our  venerable  friend  was  gone.  Amid  the  sad 
revelations  of  that  day,  his  form  was  recognised,  but  his 
sleep  was  the  sleep  of  death.  Grasping  his  hickory 
cane,  his  gray  hairs  wet  with  surf,  lay  the  veteran  on  the 
beach.     We  looked  at  him  with  tearful  eyes  ;  and  as  the 


166  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

soldiers  of  the  fort  raised  him  in  their  arms,  the  sua 
shone  on  his  watch-chain,  and  the  date  of  1776  renewed 
our  tears. 

A  mournful  and  respectful  train  wound  its  way,  with 
military  honours,  by  the  curlew  ground,  to  the  myrtles  ; 
the  muffled  drum  mingling  with  air  and  sea,  and  the 
minute  guns  with  sad  precision  told  the  tread  of  death. 

Fit  was  the  burial.  Let  the  worldling  be  laid  amid  the 
city's  hum,  let  the  babe  and  the  maiden  rest  beneath  the 
green  turf,  and  flowers  blossom  over  their  grave,  but  the 
heroes  of  the  South — where  can  they  find  a  better  mon- 
ument than  those  hallowed  sands,  or  a  holier  dirge  than 
that  which  sweeps  over  the  spot  sacred  to  our  early 
fame  1 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THK    PEDLF.R. 


"Servant. — Oh,  master,  if  you  did  but  hear  the  pedler  at  the  door! 
He  hath  ribands  of  all  colours  of  the  rainbow  ;  he  has  the  prettiest 
love-songs  for  maids ! 

"  Autolicus. — And  you  shall  pay  well  for  'em.     [Aside. 
Will  you  buy  any  tape, 
Or  lace  for  your  cape, 
My  dainty  duck,  my  dear-a? 
Any  silk,  and  thread, 
And  toys  for  your  head 
Of  the  new'st  and  fin'st  wear-a  ? 
Come  to  the  pedler  ; 
Money's  a  meddler, 
That  doth  utter  all  men's  wear-a." 

Winter's  Tale. 

Roseiand  once  more  assumed  an  air  of  elegance  and 
comfort ;  we  resumed  our  old  habits,  brushed  up  and  re- 
gilt  like  the  portraits  of  my  grandparents,  which  were 
again  suspended  from  the  walls  ;  the  friend  was  wel- 
comed, the  stranger  sheltered.  I  must  confess  there 
was  a  little  less  ease  than  formerly,  for  everything  was 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  167 

Kew.  Who  has  not  in  his  life  been  checked  and  re- 
strained by  the  constantly-recurring  exclamations,  uttered 
in  a  tone  of  tartness, 

"  My  dear,  take  care  of  that  paint !  My  love,  don't 
touch  those  clean  things  !  My  sweet  child,  pick  up  those 
groundnut-shells  !  My  darling,  why  will  you  let  Rover 
track  the  clean  floors  ?" 

This  state  of  bondage  to  cleanliness  lasted  not  long, 
however,  at  Roseland.  Gradually  the  children  were 
seen  eating  their  sweet-potatoes  at  all  hours  ;  the  sight  of 
Ben's  powder-horn  and  fishing-tackle  excited  no  nervous 
alarm ;  my  music-books  were  allowed  to  be  in  angular 
instead  of  parallel  lines,  and  I  was  permitted  to  romp  out 
of  the  nursery  with  Patsey,  while  the  house  assumed 
that  delicious  position,  where  an  air  of  general  neatness 
prevails,  without  a  slavish  attention  to  minute  wants,  or 
a  perpetual  dread  of  doing  or  touching  something  wrong. 

I  was  amusing  myself,  one  morning,  by  seeing  Pat- 
sey's  efforts  to  get  her  big  toe  into  her  mouth,  as  she  lay 
upon  the  floor,  for  her  figure  was  too  rotund  to  admit  of 
walking.  Puckering  up  her  red  lips  with  as  intense  an 
interest  as  if  the  world  depended  on  the  effort,  she  at 
length  succeeded,  and  smacked  them  with  a  flavorous 
relish.  As  I  began  to  frolic  with  her,  she  showed  her 
teeth,  white  as  rice-grains,  and  her  round,  fresh  laugh 
rang  out  in  musical  peals  ;  at  length  I  jumped  over  her. 
Binah,  her  nurse,  caught  me  by  the  arm  in  anger,  ex- 
claiming, 

"  What  for  you  ben  walk  over  my  child*  Miss  Neely  1     L 
Just  go  back  same  fashion,  or  my  child  an't  gauin  for 
grow  no  more  agen." 

I  was  really  obliged  to  skip  back  to  pacify  her,  but  I 
soon  offended  anew  by  snatching  her  from  her  nurse's 
arms  through  the  open  window,  as  I  stood  on  the  piazza. 

"  My  lor,  Miss  Neely,"  cried  her  nurse,  "  how  you     \ 
ben  co  sich  a  ting !     Put  Miss  Pataey  straight  back ;  if 
you  carry  him  trou  one  door  fore  you  ben  put  'em  back, 
he  just  keep  leetle  so  !" 

*  This  appellation  is  constantly  given  by  negro  nurses  to  the  white 
children  under  their  care. 


J 


168  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  the  origin  of  these  and 
other  superstitions.  Perhaps  they  have  some  more  ra- 
tional beginning  than  is  dreamed  of  in  our  philosophy. 
No  nurse  at  the  South  will  allow  a  child  to  be  carried  to 
a  looking-glass  before  it  is  a  month  old,  and  its  infant 
sneeze  must  never  be  unanswered  by  "  God  bless  you." 

A  little  incident  soon  occurred  to  break  the  retirement 
of  Roseland. 

Every  man  has  some  peculiar  taste  or  preference, 
and,  I  think,  though  papa  dressed  with  great  elegance, 
his  was  a  decided  love  of  his  old  clothes  ;  his  garments, 
like  his  friends,  became  dearer  to  him  from  their  wear 
and  tear  in  his  service,  and  they  were  deposited  succes- 
sively in  his  dressing-room,  though  mamma  thought  them 
quite  unfit  for  him.  He  averred  that  he  required  his  old 
hunting-suits  for  accidents  ;  his  summer-jackets  and  vests, 
though  faded,  were  the  coolest  in  the  world  ;  his  worm- 
eaten  but  warm  roquelaure  was  admirable  for  riding 
about  the  fields,  &c.  In  vain  mamma  represented  the 
economy  of  cutting  up  some  for  the  boys,  and  giving 
others  to  the  servants ;  he  would  not  consent,  nor  part 
with  articles  in  which  he  said  he  felt  at  home.  Often 
did  mamma  remonstrate  against  the  dressing-room's 
looking  like  a  haberdasher's  shop  ;  often  did  she  take 
down  a  coat,  hold  it  up  to  the  light,  and  show  him  perfo- 
rations that  would  have  honoured  New-Orleans  or  Water- 
loo ;  often,  while  Chloe  was  flogging  the  pantaloons, 
which  ungallantly  kicked  in  return,  did  she  declare  that 
it  was  a  sin  and  a  shame  for  her  master  to  have  such 
things  in  the  house  ;  still  the  anti-cherubic  shapes  accu- 
mulated on  the  nails  and  hooks,  and  were  even  consid- 
ered as  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  preserved  from  the 
fire  at  the  burning  of  Roseland. 

Our  little  circle  about  this  time  was  animated  by  a 
visit  from  a  pedler.  As  soon  as  he  was  perceived  cros- 
sing the  lawn  with  a  large  basket  on  his  arm,  and  a  bun- 
dle slung  across  a  stick  on  his  shoulder,  a  stir  com- 
menced in  the  house.  Mamma  assumed  an  air  of  impor- 
tance and  responsibility  ;  I  felt  a  pleasurable  excitement ; 
Chloe's    and    Flora's    eyes   twinkled  with  expectation ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  169 

while,  from  different  quarters,  the  house  servants  entered, 
standing  with  eyes  and  mouths  silently  open,  as  the  ped- 
ler,  after  depositing  his  basket  and  deliberately  untying 
his  bundle,  offered  his  goods  to  our  inspection.  He  was 
a  stout  man,  with  a  dark  complexion,  pitted  ^ith  the 
smallpox,  and  spoke  in  a  foreign  accent.  I  confess  that 
I  yielded  myself  to  the  pleasure  of  purchasing  some  gew- 
gaws, which  I  afterward  gave  to  Flora,  while  mamma 
looked  at  the  glass  and  plated  ware. 

"  Ver  sheap,"  said  the  pedler,  following  her  eye,  and 
taking  up  a  pair  of  glass  pitchers  ;  "  only  two  dollars — • 
sheap  as  dirt.  If  te  lady  hash  any  old  closhes,  it  is  pet- 
ter  as  money." 

Mamma  took  the  pitchers  in  her  hand  with  an  inquisi- 
torial air,  balanced  them,  knocked  them  with  her  small 
knuckles — they  rang  as  clear  as  a  bell — examined  the 
glass — there  was  not  a  flaw  in  it.  Chloe  went  through 
the  same  process  ;  they  looked  significantly  at  each  other, 
nodded,  set  the  pitchers  on  the  slab,  and  gave  a  little  ap- 
probatory cough. 

"  They  are  certainly  very  cheap,"  said  mamma. 

"  They  is,  for  true,  my  mistress,"  said  Chloe,  with  so- 
lemnity, "  and  more  handsomer  than  Mrs.  Whitney's  that 
she  gin  six  dollars  for  at  Charleston." 

"  Chloe,"  said  mamma,  "  were  not  those  pantaloons 
you  were  shaking  to-day  quite  shrunk  and  worn  out  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  she  ;  "  and  they  dont  fit  no  how. 
The  last  time  the  colonel  wore  them  he  seemed  quite  on- 
restless." 

"  Just  step  up,"  said  her  mistress,  "  and  bring  them 
down  ;  but  stay — what  did  you  say  was  the  price  of  these 
candlesticks,  sir !" 

"  Tish  only  von  dollars ;  but  tish  more  sheaper  for  te 
old  closhes.  If  te  lady  will  get  te  old  closhes,  I  will 
put  in  te  pellows  and  te  prush,  and  it  ish  more  sheaper, 
too." 

Chloe  and  mamma  looked  at  each  other,  and  raised 
their  eyebrows. 

"  I  will  just  step  up  and  see  those  pantaloons,"  said 
mamma,  in  a  consulting  tone.  "  It  will  be  a  mercy  to 
P 


170  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

the  colonel  to  clear  out  some  of  that  rubbish.  I  am  con« 
fldent  he  can  never  wear  the  pantaloons  again  ;  they 
are  rubbed  in  the  knees,  and  require  seating,  and  he 
never  will  wear  seated  pantaloons.  These  things  are 
unusuajjy  cheap,  and  the  colonel  told  me  lately  we  were 
in  want  of  a  few  little  matters  of  this  sort."  Thus  say- 
ing, with  a  significant  whisper  to  me  to  watch  the  pedler, 
she  disappeared  with  Chloe. 

They  soon  returned,  Chloe  bearing  a  variety  of  gar- 
ments, for  mamma  had  taken  the  important  premier  pas. 
The  pantaloons  were  first  produced.  The  pedler  took 
them  in  his  hand,  which  flew  up  like  an  empty  scale,  to 
show  how  light  they  were  ;  he  held  them  up  to  the  sun, 
and  a  half  contemptuous  smile  crossed  his  lips  ;  then 
shaking  his  head,  he  threw  them  down  beside  his  basket. 
A  drab  overcoat  was  next  inspected,  and  was  also  thrown 
aside  with  a  doubtful  expression. 

"  Mr.  Pedler,"  said  mamma,  in  a  very  soft  tone,  "  you 
must  allow  me  a  fair  price  ;  these  are  excellent  articles." 

"  Oh,  ver  fair,"  said  he,  "  but  te  closhes  ish  not  ver 
goot ;  te  closhesman  is  not  going  to  give  me  nothing  for 
dish,"  and  he  laid  a  waistcoat  on  the  other  two  articles. 

Mamma  and  Chloe  had  by  this  time  reached  the 
depths  of  the  basket,  and,  with  sympathetic  exclamations, 
arranged  several  articles  on  the  slab. 

"  You  will  let  me  have  these  pitchers,"  said  mamma, 
with  a  look  of  concentrated  resolution,  "  for  that  very 
nice  pair  of  pantaloons." 

The  pedler  gave  a  short  whistle  expressive  of  con- 
tempt, shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  Tish  not  possibles.  I 
will  give  two  pisher  and  von  prush  for  te  pantaloon  and 
waistcoat." 

Mamma  and  Chloe  glanced  at  each  other  and  at  me ; 
I  was  absorbed  in  my  own  bargains,  and  said,  carelessly, 
that  the  pitchers  were  perfect  beauties.  Chloe  pushed 
one  pitcher  a  little  forward,  mamma  pushed  the  other  on 
a  parallel  line,  then  poised  a  decanter,  and  again  applied 
her  delicate  knuckles  for  the  test.  That,  too,  rang  out 
the  musical,  unbroken  sound,  so  dear  to  the  housewife's 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  171 

ear,  and,  with  a  pair  of  plated  candlesticks,  was  deposited 
on  the  table.     The  pedler  took  up  the  drab  overcoat. 

"Te  closhesman's  give  nothing  for  dish." 

Mamma  looked  disconcerted.  The  expression  of  her 
face  implied  the  fear  that  the  pedler  would  not  even  ac- 
cept it  as  a  gift.  Chloe  and  she  held  a  whispering  con- 
sultation. At  this  moment  Binah  came  in  with  little 
Patsey,  who,  seeing  the  articles  on  the  slab,  pointed  with 
her  dimpled  fingers,  and  said  her  only  words, 

"  Pretty  !  pretty  !" 

At  the  same  moment,  Lafayette  and  Venus,  the  two 
little  novices  in  furniture  rubbing,  exclaimed, 

"  Ki !  if  dem  ting  an't  shine  too  much  !" 

These  opinions  made  the  turning  point  in  mamma's 
mind,  though  coming  from  such  insignificant  sources. 

"  So  they  are  pretty,  my  darling,"  said  mamma  to  Pat- 
sey ;  and  then,  turning  to  the  pedler,  she  asked  him  what 
he  would  give  in  exchange  for  the  pantaloons,  the  waist- 
coat, and  the  coat. 

The  pedler  set  aside  two  decanters,  one  pitcher,  the 
plated  candlesticks,  and  a  hearth-brush. 

"  Tish  ver  goot  pargains  for  te  lady,"  said  he. 

Mamma  gained  courage. 

"  I  cannot  think  of  letting  you  have  all  these  things 
without  something  more.  You  must  at  least  throw  in 
that  little  tray,"  and  she  looked  at  a  small  scarlet  one, 
worth  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  dollar. 

The  pedler  hesitated,  and  held  it  up  so  that  the  morn- 
ing sun  shone  on  its  bright  hues. 

"  I  shall  not  make  a  bargain  without  that,'1''  said  mam- 
ma, resolutely.  The  pedler  sighed,  and  laying  it  with  the 
selected  articles,  said, 

"  Tish  ver  great  pargains  for  te  lady." 

Mamma  smiled  triumphantly,  and  the  pedler,  tying  up 
his  bundle  and  slinging  his  stick,  departed  with  an  air  of 
humility. 

Papa's  voice  was  soon  heard,  as  usual',  before  he  was 
seen. 

"  Rub  down  Beauty,  Mark,  and  tell  Diggory  to  call 
out  the  hounds." 


172  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

There  was  a  slight  embarrassment  in  mamma's  man- 
ner when  he  entered,  mingled  with  the  same  quantity  of 
bravado.  He  nodded  to  her,  tapped  me  on  the  head 
with  his  riding-whip,  gave  Patsey  a  kiss  as  she  stretched 
out  her  arms  to  him,  tossed  her  in  the  air,  and,  returning 
her  to  her  nurse,  was  passing  on. 

"  Do  stop,  colonel,"  said  mamma,  "  and  admire  my 
bargains.  See  this  cut  glass  and  plate  that  we  have 
been  wishing  for,  to  save  our  best  set." 

"  What,  this  trash  V  said  he,  pausing  a  moment  at  the 
table — "  blown  glass  and  washed  brass  !  Who  has 
been  fooling  you  ?" 

"  Colonel,"  said  mamma,  colouring  highly,  "  how  can 
you — " 

"  I  cannot  stop  a  minute,  now,  wife,"  said  he.  "  Jones 
and  Ferguson  are  for  a  hunt  to-day  !  They  are  waiting 
at  Drake's  corner.  It  looks  like  falling  weather,  and  my 
old  drab  will  come  in  well  to-day." 

Mamma  looked  frightened,  and  he  passed  on  up  stairs. 
He  was  one  of  those  gentleman  who  keep  a  house  alive, 
as  the  phrase  is,  whether  in  merriment  or  the  contrary, 
and  we  were  always  prepared  to  search  for  his  hat,  or 
whip,  or  slippers,  which  he  was  confident  he  put  in  their 
places,  but  which,  by  some  miracle,  were  often  in  opposite 
directions.  Our  greatest  trial,  however,  was  with  mam- 
ma's and  his  spectacles,  for  they  had  four  pairs  between 
them — far-sighted  and  near-sighted.  There  were,  indeed, 
optical  delusions  practised  with  them ;  for  when  papa 
wanted  his,  they  were  hidden  behind  some  pickle-jar ; 
and  when  mamma  had  carefully  placed  hers  in  her  key- 
basket,  they  were  generally  found  in  one  of  papa's  vari- 
ous pockets  ;  when  a  distant  object  was  to  be  seen,  he 
was  sure  to  mount  the  near-sighted,  and  cry  "  Pshaw  !" 
and  if  a  splinter  was  to  be  taken  out,  nothing  could  be 
found  but  the  far-sighted  ones,  and  he  said  something 
worse :  sometimes  all  four  pairs  were  missing,  and  such 
a  scampering  ensued  ! 

We  now  heard  a  great  outcry  up  stairs.  "  Wife ! 
Chloe  !    Cornelia  !    come  and  find  my  drab  coat !"     We 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  173 

looked  at  each  other  in  dismay,  but  papa  was  not  a  man 
for  delay,  and  we  obeyed  his  summons. 

"  Wife,"  said  he,  beating  aside  the  externals  of  man 
that  hung  about  his  dressing-room,  "  where  is  my  old 
drab  coat  V 

Mamma  swallowed  as  if  a  dry  artichoke  was  in  her 
throat,  as  she  said,  slowly,  "  Why,  colonel,  you  know  you 
had  not  worn  that  coat  for  months,  and  as  you  have  an- 
other one,  and  a  roquelaure,  and  the  coat  was  full  of 
moth  holes,  I  exchanged  it  with  the  pedler  for  cut  glass 
and  plate." 

"  Cut  devils  !"  said  papa,  who  liked  to  soften  an  oath 
by  combinations ;  "  it  was  worth  twenty  dollars — yes, 
more,  because  I  felt  at  home  in  it.  I  hate  new  coats  as 
I  do—" 

"  But,  colonel,"  interrupted  mamma,  "  you  did  not  see 
the  scarlet  tray,  and  the — " 

"  Scarlet  nonsense  !"  shouted  papa ;  "  I  believe,  if  they 
could,  women  would  sell  their  husbands  to  those  ras- 
cally pedlers !" 

Beauty  and  the  hounds  were  now  pronounced  ready. 
I  followed  papa  to  the  piazza,  and  heard  his  wrath  rolling 
off  as  he  cantered  away. 

P2 


174  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    DUEL. 

"  Some  fell  for  wrong  and  some  for  right, 
But  mony  bade  the  world  gude  night." 

Robert  Burns. 

"  Such  I  hold  to  be  the  genuine  use  of  gunpowder,  that  it  makes 
all  men  alike  tall.        *        *        * 

"  With  respect  to  duels,  indeed,  I  have  my  own  ideas.  Few  things 
in  this  so  surprising  world  strike  me  with  more  surprise.  Two  little 
visual  spectra  of  men,  hovering  with  insecure  enough  cohesion  in  the 
midst  of  the  Unfathomable,  and  to  dissolve  therein,  at  any  rate,  very 
soon,  make  pause  at  the  distance  of  twelve  paces  asunder,  whirl 
round,  and  simultaneously,  by  the  cunningest  mechanism,  explode 
one  another  into  dissolution." — Sartor  Resartus. 

It  is  a  lovely  tie  that  unites  brothers  and  sisters,  when 
the  little  jealousies  of  childhood  are  past.  My  brothers 
were  expected  from  college,  and  my  heart  beat  with  curi- 
osity and  love.  I  practised  the  tunes  they  used  to  pre- 
fer, decorated  their  bedrooms  with  such  trifling  articles 
of  taste  as  the  country-house  afforded,  ran  again  and 
again  to  the  window  to  watch  their  approach  through  the 
avenue,  and  glanced  at  the  mirror  to  see  what  they  would 
think  of  me.  They  came — John  was  unaltered,  though 
of  firmer  fabric.  His  chestnut  curls  still  lay  clustering 
on  his  head  ;  he  still  idly  thrust  his  hand  through  them ; 
they  fluttered  as  they  were  wont  in  boyhood,  when  the 
winds  lifted  their  rich  masses,  and  shook  as  mirth  and 
laughter  stirred  his  frame.  His  saucy  eyes  still  looked 
archly  into  mine ;  his  old  jests  were  renewed,  and  his 
laugh  went  round  like  a  spell,  while  his  teeth,  in  their 
glittering  whiteness,  fairly  fixed  our  eyes.  The  hounds 
knew  his  whistle,  the  servants  gathered  around  him  to 
receive  the  cordial  shake  of  his  hand,  and  every  uncle 
and  aunty  on  the  plantation  was  remembered.  There 
was  a  mixture  of  good-will  and  vanity  in  all  that  he  did  ; 
one  could  scarcely  say  which  preponderated. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  175 

But  Richard — one  could  see  the  growth  of  soul  in  his 
whole  exterior.  His  forehead  had  enlarged,  and  seemed 
bleached  by  pure  intellect ;  his  light  thin  hair  floated 
back  as  though  nothing  should  come  between  his  mind-lit 
brow  and  heaven.  He  was  taller  than  John,  and  at  the 
same  time  more  graceful  and  yielding.  When  his  brother 
laughed  he  only  smiled,  and  the  smile  seemed  in  sympa- 
thy for  John,  and  not  the  ruffling  of  his  serious  spirit. 
There  was  a  repose  about  him  that  called  one  away  from 
his  external  beauty,  of  which  he  seemed  unconscious,  to 
his  spiritual  nature,  the  sense  of  which  appeared  ever 
present  with  him ;  not  that  power  which  the  world  calls 
talent,  and  which  sometimes  leads  to  vanity,  but.  that 
sense  of  a  connexion  with  a  higher  order  of  hidden  crea- 
tion, which  leads  to  a  holy  confidence  in  the  Supreme 
Good.  He  said  little ;  but  when  he  spoke  we  paused, 
and  our  eyes  lingered  on  him  as  his  thoughts  played  on 
his  lips  after  the  voice  had  passed  away. 

I  could  not  be  weary  of  looking  at  the  manly  growth 
of  my  dear  brothers,  of  twining  John's  rebel  curls  on  my 
finger,  or  parting  the  silken  locks  from  Richard's  thought- 
ful brow.  As  evening  approached  we  sat  on  the  sofa, 
hand  clasped  in  hand,  while  mamma  looked  on  us  all  in 
love  ;  or  I  felt  their  arms  encircle  me  as  they  gave  me  a 
renewed  look  of  approving  curiosity,  or  we  listened  to 
John's  list  of  college  troubles  and  college  exploits,  and  I 
glanced  into  Richard's  eyes  to  know  if  they  were  true. 
Papa  too,  his  old  reminiscences  brightening  up,  gave 
them  his  bygone  experience,  and  they  chatted  together 
of  batter-puddings,  whose  affinities  could  scarcely  be 
conquered  by  a  rebound  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling ; 
Indian  puddings,  faithful  as  the  sun  in  their  daily  return ; 
rank  butter,  which  disclosed,  in  its  almost  interminable 
kegs,  every  evil  of  the  palate,  with  scarcely  the  benefit 
of  hope  at  the  bottom ;  milk,  which,  from  its  colour, 
seeded  to  be  under  "  skyey  influences"  rather  than  vege- 
table ;  coffee,  whose  geographical  experience  never 
reached  further  than  the  beet-bed  of  a  Yankee  garden ; 
and  tea,  whose  solutions  would  not  have  agitated  the 
sensitive  nerves  of  "  Fine-ear,  who  could  hear  the  grass 


176  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

grow."  Then  came  the  stale  jokes  of  a  jest-book  substi- 
tuted for  the  president's  Bible  ;  of  the  diffusion  of  helle- 
bore by  some  mischievous  wight  in  the  recitation-room, 
which  occasioned  the  whole  class,  tutor  and  all,  to  burst 
into  fits  of  inextinguishable  sneezing ;  of  the  rolling  of 
hot  iron  balls  down  entry  stairs,  to  be  taken  up  by  some 
poor  unsuspecting  martyr  proctor  ;  of  all  sorts  of  fantas- 
tic excuses  offered  by  idle  and  ingenious  scholars  for 
their  neglected  lessons,  disturbing  even  the  gravity  of 
the  instructers  ;  of  strange  mistakes  committed  in  recita- 
tion, some  intentional  and  some  unintentional,  but  all 
equally  adapted  to  provoke  the  shout  of  irresistible  laugh- 
ter; 'of  hairbreadth  escapes  and  impudent  subterfuges  on 
the  visits  of  tutors  to  noisy  rooms  ;  of  the  summoning  of 
two  or  three  frightened  freshmen  to  a  government  meet- 
ing of  sophomores  and  juniors,  dressed  up  in  their  gowns, 
and  the  awful  sentence  of  suspension  or  rustication  passed 
upon  the  trembling  and  believing  culprits ;  of  the  two, 
three,  four,  or  five  dollars,  according  to  the  merit  of  the 
composition,  given  to  indigent  but  talented  scholars,  for 
writing  themes,  and  forensics,  and  commencement  parts  ; 
of  a  thousand  other  exploits,  more  adapted  to  a  volume 
than  a  chapter  ;  and  "  thrice  they  slew  the  slain." 

John  fell  naturally  into  his  old  pursuits  ;  club  dinners, 
fishing-parties,  and  the  chase  soon  occupied  his  leisure 
moments,  while  Richard  devoted  his  time  to  books  and  to 
me.  I  soon  perceived  that  the  name  of  Randolph,  a 
classmate  and  neighbour  who  had  returned  with  them, 
was  painful  to  Richard.  Gradually,  as  we  read  together, 
or  penetrated  our  old  haunts  on  horseback,  or  strolled  at 
sunset,  kindling  up  our  common  sympathies  at  the  altar 
of  nature,  he  opened  his  heart  to  me.  Randolph  had  in- 
sulted him  on  the  voyage.  John,  in  his  ardent  and  care- 
less way,  had  tried  to  effect  a  reconciliation,  and  thought 
he  had  succeeded,  but  Richard  could  only  be  satisfied  by 
an  apology.  It  had  been  demanded  privately  since  his 
return  and  refused,  though  with  explanations,  and  thus 
the  beautiful  repose  of  his  spirit  was  broken.  In  John's 
case  it  would  have  been  decided  by  "  a  word  and  a 
blow ;"  but  Richard's  mental  and  physical  temperaments 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  177 

were  both  different  from  his ;  and  while  John  entered 
into  his  favourite  pursuits,  Richard  gave  himself  up  to 
sensitive  and  jealous  misery. 

The  subject  of  duelling  had  been  frequently  discussed 
in  former  years  by  papa  and  Duncan.  Duncan  thought 
it  an  outrage  on  the  law  of  God,  and  an  impatient  inter- 
ference with  the  political  code  of  our  country,  which  aims 
to  provide  for  the  rights  of  its  citizens.  He  argued  that 
the  grievances  between  two  private  individuals  ought  not 
to  be  placed  in  the  scale  against  the  nuisance  of  throw- 
ing whole  families  and  communities  into  terror,  agitation, 
and  unspeakable  distress ;  that  it  is  full  season  for  an 
enlightened  age  to  put  down  one  of  the  most  savage  and 
foolish  relics  of  barbarous  times ;  that  a  spurious  and 
animal  bravery  is  the  very  highest  sentiment  which  the 
practice  promotes,  while  a  lofty  moral  courage  is  exer-  • 
cised  in  refusing,  not  in  accepting  a  challenge  ;  that  the 
most  valuable  lives  are  now  exposed  to  destruction  when- 
ever an  unprincipled  bully  sees  fit  to  offer  an  insult ;  that, 
so  far  from  the  stain  of  dishonour  being  effaced  by  duel- 
ling, it  is  generally  engrained  more  deeply,  as  is  evinced 
by  the  fact  that  nothing  is  considered  more  uncivil  than 
to  allude  to  a  particular  duel  in  the  presence  of  the  sur- 
viver,  or  of  the  friends  of  either  party  ;  that,  according  to 
the  present  practice,  virtue,  vice,  honour,  infamy,  truth, 
falsehood,  are  all  made  to  depend  on  the  most  factitious 
and  contingent  principle  in  the  world,  viz.,  the  event  of  a 
combat — the  lottery  of  the  pistol ;  that  the  conduct  and 
the  passions  which  are  thus  fostered  seem  natural  to 
wolves,  not  to  human  beings  ;  that  the  most  valiant  men 
of  antiquity,  the  Caesars,  the  Catos,  and  the  Pompeys, 
never  dreamed  of  avenging  their  personal  injuries  by  pri- 
vate combats ;  that,  since  the  most  brave,  enlightened, 
and  virtuous  nations  on  earth  have  been  entirely  igno- 
rant of  duelling,  it  is  not  essentially  an  institution  of  hon- 
our, out  a  frightful  and  barbarous  custom,  worthy  of  its 
ferocious  origin ;  that,  by  a  principle  of  false  shame  and 
the  fear  of  reproach,  it  transforms  the  best  of  men  into 
hypocrites  and  liars,  and  drives  them  out  to  murder  the 
friends  of  their  youth  and  their  bosoms,  for  an  indiscreet 


178  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

word  which  they  ought  to  forget,  perhaps  for  a  merited 
reproach  which  they  ought  to  endure  ;  that  the  duellist, 
by  a  horrible  refinement  and  reduplication  of  crime,  unites 
at  once  in  his  own  person  the  character  of  murderer  and 
suicide  ;  that  the  practice  is  not  necessary  to  vindicate 
one's  reputation  from  the  charge  of  cowardice,  since 
every  brave  man  has  opportunities  to  expose  his  life  for 
the  sake  of  his  country  and  of  humanity  ;  that  no  man 
of  true  sensibility  can  ever  expect  to  be  serene  and  happy 
after  having  killed  his  antagonist ;  and,  finally,  that  gen- 
uine honour  lies  in  ourselves,  not  in  the  opinion  of  the 
world ;  that  it  is  neither  defended  by  sword  nor  buckler, 
but  by  a  life  of  integrity  and  irreproachableness  ;  and 
that  this  combat  is  more  glorious  than  any  other. 

Papa,  on  the  contrary,  advocated  it  as  a  check  on  the 
violence  of  human  passion,  as  well  as  on  the  meanness 
of  dishonour,  and  a  salutary  substitute  for  imperfect  laws, 
particularly  in  a  thinly-populated  country,  where  arbitra- 
tion is  difficult,  and  the  laws  slow  in  their  operation.  He 
maintained  that  the  agony  of  enduring  an  insult,  and  es- 
pecially the  scorn  and  contempt  of  society,  are  more  in- 
tolerable than  all  the  evils  arising  from  the  practice  of 
duelling  ;  and  that  the  refusing  to  fight  is  an  ambiguous 
action,  since  cowards  may  pretend  principle  to  shelter 
themselves  from  a  danger  they  dare  not  meet. 

I  had  often  listened  with  intense  interest  to  these  dis- 
cussions, and  found  myself  leaning  to  what  seemed  to  me 
the  heroic  side  of  the  question,  when  papa  said  one  day 
to  Duncan,  after  a  long  argument — 

"  Could  you,  sir,  condescend  to  bear  an  insult  tamely  V 

I  felt  my  cheek  flush  as  Duncan  replied,  calmly,  "I 
would  trust  to  the  laws  of  my  country  for  redress,  and 
never  violate  what  I  think  to  be  the  will  of  God." 

As  papa  gave  the  slightest  possible  whistle  and  turned 
on  his  heel,  I  blushed  deeper,  but  it  was  for  Duncan ;  nor 
could  his  calm  and  dispassionate  arguments  with  me  ever 
separate  the  thought  of  cowardice  from  his  views.  Alas! 
I  knew  not  then  how  my  lofty  feelings  would  be  tested  ! 

"  What  shall  I  do,  Cornelia  V  said  Richard,  as  we 
struck  into  a  retired  foot-path,  after  pouring  out  our  souls 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  179 

to  each  other  as  we  were  wont  to  do.  "  I  feel  the  sting 
of  this  insult  rankling  like  a  serpent's  fang  within  me 
through  the  day,  and  at  night  I  see  it  branded  in  burning 
characters,  in  waking  darkness,  and  yet  more  hideous 
dreams.  I  see  it  in  every  man's  face  calling  me  cow- 
ard, and  women  seem  to  me  to  shrink  from  one  who  can- 
not defend  them.  I  have  tried  to  look  all  round  this  sub- 
ject calmly,  but  it  comes  to  me  like  a  nightmare." 

We  were  thrown  together  in  the  company  of  Ran- 
dolph. I  glanced  at  Richard,  and  soon  saw  a  deep  red 
spot  gather  on  his  cheek  ;  his  lips  were  compressed,  and 
his  manner  stately.  Randolph  asked  an  introduction  to 
me.  I  received  him  like  ice,  for  my  heart  was  my  poor 
Richard's,  who  sat  silent  and  reserved.  Randolph  be- 
came particularly  gay ;  his  wit  flashed  out,  and  shone 
the  brighter  over  Richard's  clouds.  In  the  playfulness 
of  his  feelings  he  said  things  which  a  jealousy  like  ours 
was  not  slow  to  misinterpret.  We  left  the  circle  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  I  can  bear  this  no  longer,"  said  my  brother,  as  he 
walked  on  with  rapid  strides,  and  pressed  his  hand  to 
his  forehead.  "  Randolph  scoffs  at  me.  I  must  have 
the  satisfaction  of  a  gentleman.  Even  you  despise  me 
for  my  abject  submission." 

I  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  then  said,  "  I  can  bear 
anything  better  than  your  disgrace,  brother." 

How  little  did  it  occur  to  me  that  I  might  have  been 
a  medium  of  reconciliation  instead  of  a  desperate  advi- 
ser !  If  the  right  string  had  been  touched  in  my  broth- 
er's mind,  all  would  have  been  tuned  to  harmony  ;  but 
my  preconceived  views  of  physical  courage  overbalanced 
the  claim  of  high  moral  duty.  Poor  Richard  !  we  went 
home ;  he  threw  himself  moodily  on  the  sofa,  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands,  and,  rising,  poured  out  his  feelings 
anew  in  words  of  burning  anger. 

Oh,  woman,  beware  how  you  aid  in  inflaming  the  pas- 
sions of  man  !  The  courtesan  of  classic  times  won  her 
judges  by  a  display  of  her  personal  charms ;  let  your 
manifestation  be  only  of  the  bright  and  tender  virtues ; 
let  not  your  influence,  either  of  person  or  mind,  swell 


180  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

the  tempest  of  unlawful  excitement.  It  is  not  my  ob- 
ject here  to  argue  for  or  against  duelling ;  that  is  the 
province  of  abler  minds  ;  but  I  may  venture  to  show  how 
female  influence  may  "  ride  on  the  whirlwind  and  direct 
the  storm"  of  masculine  feeling  for  good  or  for  evil ;  how 
the  genius  of  Christianity,  or  even  worldly  philosophy, 
quietly  exhibited  in  woman's  gentle  tones,  may  come 
with  their  enlightening  power,  not  for  the  avoidance  of 
mere  physical  pain,  but  with  a  serious  regard  to  man's 
true  dignity  and  ultimate  destiny.  I  warn  my  sex  against 
inflammatory  expressions.  Beautiful  and  graceful  to  the 
eye,  can  they  be  hard  and  unforgiving  ?  We  wonder  not 
that  the  coarse  nettle  leaves  its  sting  ;  but,  when  the 
flower  that  we  carry  to  our  lips  ejects  its  poison,  grief 
and  surprise  are  added  to  the  pain.  Had  I  but  given 
those  "  soft  answers  that  turn  away  wrath,"  had  I  thought 
of  how  many  good  feelings  in  man's  nature  may  be  op- 
erated upon — instead  of  stimulating  the  evil,  I  might 
have  been  the  blessed  means  of  reconciling  two  noble 
spirits.  But  I  did  not ;  my  haughty  soul  would  not 
stoop  to  the  thought  that  my  brother  should  even  inquire 
into  the  motives  of  an  aggressor.  Stoop !  mistaken 
term !  The  peacemaker  stoops  not,  but  rather  rises  to 
a  high  moral  elevation,  and  looks  calmly  down  upon  the 
angry  passions  that  are  floating  beneath  him. 

A  challenge  was  sent,  unknown  to  any  of  our  domes- 
tic circle  but  myself.  The  meeting  was  to  be  on  the 
following  morning,  in  a  field  two  miles  distant,  at  early 
dawn.     Papa  and  John  were  in  the  city. 

Richard  and  I  sat  late  in  the  piazza  on  that  evening. 
We  spoke  but  little ;  we  did  not,  as  we  were  often,  in 
the  fulness  of  our  confidence,  accustomed  to  do,  clasp 
each  other's  hands.  The  voices  of  our  family  seemed 
to  me  like  dreams  and  echoes  rather  than  realities ;  to- 
morrow was  spoken  of — it  was  as  a  vague  image  for  a 
moment — then  the  thought  of  its  probable  results  swept 
over  me  like  a  coming  tempest.  The  family  retired  to 
their  quiet  repose.  Richard  gave  the  little  ones  no  kiss, 
as  usual,  and  answered  not  their  childish  prattle  ;  they 
all  went,  and  we  were  left  alone.     Then  came  the  ag- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  181 

ony ;  I  could  not  let  him  go ;  I  clung  round  his  neck 
and  petitioned  him  to  stay.  I  felt  already  like  a  mur- 
derer. I  offered  to  mediate — to  do  anything  rather  than 
expose  a  human  life  to  risk  the  untried  possibilities  of  a 
future  state  of  being.     Richard  was  affectionate,  but  firm. 

"  It  is  too  late,  my  sister,"  he  said.  "  Had  I  been  a 
little  more  patient"  (alas  !  what  duellist  has  not  had  a 
moment  like  this  1),  "I  might  have  prevented  this  result. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  I  have  exaggerated  this  affair  ;  but  it 
is  too  late — to  stop  now  would  be  infamy.  And  now, 
Cornelia,  for  my  last  charge.  I  have  endeavoured  to 
write  to-day,  but  in  vain.  I  leave  the  commission  to 
your  tenderness." 

As  he  said  this,  he  handed  me  an  unframed  miniature 
of  a  full-length  figure,  on  which  was  written  "  Eliza." 
He  had  showed  it  me  before,  but  now  it  struck  me  with 
tenfold  interest.  It  was  feminine  almost  to  childishness, 
except  the  eyes  ;  but  there  beamed  forth  from  those  dark 
orbs  a  full-formed  .  soul,  thirsting  for  intellectual  food. 
The  figure  was  slight,  symmetrical,  and  waving — one  of 
those  that  seem  formed  to  lean  on  man's  stronger  arm : 
but  the  gazer  on  that  portrait  turned,  as  by  a  spell,  and 
rested  on  those  large  dark  eyes,  beaming  in  glittering 
softness,  until  his  heart  said,  "  I  love  thee,  gentle  one !" 

"  Those  beautiful  eyes,"  said  Richard,  mournfully,  as 
he  leaned  over  my  shoulder,  while  the  moon  shed  its 
rays  upon  the  picture,  "  must  they  weep  for  me — for  me, 
who  vowed  that  the  tears  of  our  parting  were  the  last 
that  they  should  shed  ?  I  wiped  them  then,  and  Eliza 
stood  like  a  trusting  child  as  I  did  so ;  and  when  I  said 
I  could  not  leave  her  till  she  smiled,  she  did  smile  a  ra- 
diant smile  of  hope  and  trustingness.  Oh,  God  !  have 
I  not  deceived  her  young  heart  1  And  my  poor  mother, 
she  who  has  but  just  begun  to  reap  the  labour  of  mater- 
nal love,  should  I  not  have  borne  more  for  her  I  Ran- 
dolph, too,  do  I  hate  him  1  do  I  wish  his  death  1  Would 
I  not  heal  him  if  he  were  wounded,  give  him  drink  if  he 
thirsted,  and  stand  with  him  hand  to  hand  against  a  com- 
mon enemy  ?  Strengthen  me,  Cornelia,  I  am  bewildered ; 
weep  not  thus,  my  sister,  for  God's  sake  ;  strengthen  me." 
Q 


182  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

I  could  not ;  and  we  yielded  in  each  other's  arms  to 
one  of  those  long  and  passionate  bursts  of  agony  that 
sweep  along  life's  paths,  and  make  the  heart  and  body 
grow  old. 

At  twelve  o'clock  we  parted.  I  listened  for  his  tread 
in  the  adjoining  room  ;  all  was  still.  I  would  have  given 
the  world  to  hear  hi9  footstep.  I  could  not  bear  the 
silence,  but  went  to  his  door  and  whispered  his  name. 
He  answered  instantly,  and  calmly — 

"  Go  back,  my  sister.     I  cannot  see  you." 

"  Only  one  word,  Richard — one  look  more." 

"  No  ;  go — go  !" 

I  went  to  my  bedroom.  The  moon  was  at  full.  Ev- 
erything looked  gigantic  ;  the  shadows  lay  in  grotesque 
masses  ;  the  trees  waved  their  arms  like  living  things ; 
the  whippoorwill's  note  was  like  a  shriek  in  my  ear. 
Twice  in  that  long  night  I  went  to  Richard's  door,  and 
sat  there ;  once  1  heard  the  click  of  a  pistol.  Still  his 
only  answer  to  my  petition  was, 

"  Go,  go,  Cornelia,"  in  his  calm,  sweet  tone. 

I  laid  myself  down  by  the  door,  with  my  face  upon  the 
boards ;  their  coolness  was  fresh  to  my  burning  cheek. 
I  saw  figures  in  the  darkness — wounded  forms — gashes 
— streaming  blood — and  Eliza  was  there — unconscious, 
with  her  glittering,  moonlight  eyes. 

The  door  opened.  I  would  have  caught  and  held  my 
brother,  but,  seemingly  aware  of  my  design,  he  stooped, 
and,  holding  my  hands  tightly  in  his,  laid  a  long  kiss  upon 
my  lips,  and  escaped  rapidly  down  the  stairs,  I  would 
have  screamed  to  him  to  return,  but  my  voice  failed  me. 
I  was  dizzy — faint ;  it  was  but  a  moment,  but  he  was 
gone  ;  then  a  ferocious  horror  came  over  me  like  mad- 
ness. I  clinched  my  hands  and  teeth,  and  a  shivering 
went  through  my  frame.  It  was  insupportable.  I  rushed 
to  mamma's  apartment,  and  told  her  the  horrid  tale. 
Then  was  all  the  mother  roused :  then  a  throe  deeper 
than  birth-struggles  tore  her  heart.  It  was  fearful  to  see 
my  calm  parent  thus  moved.  "  We  must  go  to  him," 
were  all  the  words  she  uttered,  but  such  looks,  such  pit- 
eous, piteous  groans  !     Will  they  ever  leave  my  mem- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  183 

ory,  or  the  reproaches  of  his  nurse,  who,  wringing  her 
hands,  shrieked  out — 

"  Miss  Neely,  Miss  Neely,  how  you  been  let  my  young 
maussa  do  such  a  ting?      God  have  mercy  on  he  soul." 

We  hurried  on  in  silence,  as  if  a  word  might  delay  us. 
The  moon  had  gone  down,  and  that  melancholy  moment, 
melancholy  even  to  happy  hearts,  arrived — the  breaking 
dawn.  How  is  it  that  awakening  nature  is  thus  sad  ? 
Does  not  the  analogy  of  all  human  feeling  tell  us  to  sym- 
pathize joyfully  with  such  scenes  \  How  is  it,  then, 
that  the  moon  and  stars,  which  play  as  in  jubilee  around 
the  form  of  midnight,  look,  before  the  gray  dawn,  like 
sad  travellers  journeying  a  lonely  way  ? 

We  hastened  on,  nor  thought  of  the  stars  as  they  sank, 
one  by  one,  to  shine  on  other  worlds,  nor  of  the  purple 
glow  that  rose  in  rich  colouring  on  the  eastern  sky.  We 
were  near  the  place  of  meeting — human  figures  were 
seen.  A  flash — a  sound — we  reached  the  spot — the 
.cries  of  our  attendants  pierced  the  air.  Mamma  received 
her  unconscious  son  in  her  arms,  and  I  clasped,  with  a 
breaking  heart,  his  pulseless  hand. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MARIA  ALWYN  AND  HER  MOTHER. 

•"  And  thou,  sad  sufferer  under  nameless  ill, 
That  yields  not  to  the  touch  of  human  skill, 
Improve  the  kind  occasion,  understand 
A  father's  frown,  and  kiss  his  chastening  hand. 
To  thee  the  day-spring  and  the  blaze  of  noon, 
The  purple  evening  and  resplendent  moon, 
Shine  not,  or  undesired  and  hated  shine, 
Seen  through  the  medium  of  a  cloud  like  thine." 

Cowper. 

"  Nous  nous  aimions  tous-deux  des  la  plus  tendre  enfarce, 
Et  j'avois  sur  son  coeur  une  entiere  puissance  ; 
Je  trouvais  a  lui  plaire  une  extreme  douceur, 
Et  les  chagrins  du  Mre  etoient  ceux  de  la  soeur."       Racine. 

As  I  saw  the  face   of  my  brother,  on  which  death 
seemed    to   have   stamped    an   instantaneous    seal,   and 


184  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A 

heard  his  nurse's  groans  and  lamentations,  and  mamma's 
piercing  words  of  love,  and  the  physician's  inquiring 
voice,  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  some  wild  and  fearful  tra- 
gedy were  enacting.  Still  I  felt  an  awful  testimony 
within  me,  which  declared,  "  You  have  made  this  ruin — 
your  words,  which  should  have  stilled  the  tempest,  have 
given  it  force  ;  you,  who  call  yourself  the  gentle  and 
tender  Christian,  have  held  the  torch  and  spread  this 
ruin." 

Randolph  approached  ;  pale  as  death,  he  gazed  silently 
for  a  moment  on  his  fallen  victim,  and  then,  with  a  sup- 
pressed voice,  said — 

"  Would  to  God  that  society  required  not  this  sacri- 
fice !  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  go  thus  before  one's  Maker 
and  Judge."  With  a  half-unconscious  shudder  he  was 
then  led  away. 

Life  was  not  extinct,  but  it  fluttered  almost  to  dissolu- 
tion. Richard  was  borne  home,  and  we  followed — a  sor- 
row-struck train.  His  nurse  wrung  her  hands  and  wept 
audibly  ;  Bella,  the  dumb  woman,  met  us  with  her  wild 
howling ;  and  Jim  looked  anxious  and  subdued. 

Life  struggled  fearfully  for  a  few  days  with  the  de- 
stroyer. Mamma,  by  his  bedside,  and  I,  lying  on  his 
pillow,  watched  his  pallid  face  ;  it  was  indeed  like  death  ; 
his  silky  hair  was  parted  from  his  noble  forehead,  and 
his  dark  lashes  lay  on  his  marble  cheek ;  one  could  not 
see  that  he  breathed  ;  to  my  excited  imagination,  the  flut- 
tering pulse  often  seemed  to  stop,  his  hands  fell  nerve- 
less, and  only  now  and  then  a  quivering  sigh  stole  from 
his  breast. 

Slowly,  at  length,  his  eyes  unclosed,  and  a  faint  smile, 
as  they  met  our  gaze,  like  the  shadow  of  an  infant's 
dream,  parted  his  lips.  Oh,  my  heart !  I  was  faint  with 
joy.  Again  came  the  blessed  testimony  of  life  and  love  ; 
he  whispered  Mother !  She  bent  over  to  his  pale  lips, 
clasped  his  clasping  hand,  laid  her  face- on  his  pillow, 
and  wept.  It  was  a  moment  for  the  heart's  prayer.  His 
old  nurse,  with  upraised  eyes  and  trembling  hands,  stood 
by  and  uttered  hers  aloud.  Jim  looked  on  anxiously,  for 
he  was  frightened  by  mamma's  tears. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  185 

"  He  will  live  !"  I  whispered  to  Jim  ;  "  he  has  spoken 
and  smiled." 

A  little  sustenance  was  given  him ;  he  smiled  again, 
and  Jim  caught  the  beautiful  glance  of  coming  life  as  it 
beamed  even  on  him. 

"  Ki !"  said  Jim,  in  a  tone  a  little  over  a  whisper,  and 
snapping  his  fingers,  "  dead  an't  gvvying  for  catch  Maus 
Dick  yet !" 

So  saying,  he  opened  the  door  softly,  slid  down  the~~~^ 
balusters,  cut  a  few  somersets  through  the  yard,  and  pro- 
claimed the  good  news  to  the  people.  Poor  fellow !  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  voluntarily  left  his  young  mas- 
ter's room.  Night  and  day  he  and  Richard's  old  nurse 
had  taken  their  stations  there  unbidden ;  when  asleep,  a 
word  aroused  them;  when  waking,  they  watched  with 
active  kindness.  What  Southern  family  has  not  this  tes- 
timony to  give  of  some  faithful  dependant  who  thus  cre- 
ates a  tie  of  gratitude "? 

Richard's  recovery  was  rapid,  and  the  busy  kindness 
devoted  to  a  Southern  convalescent  was  soon  discerni- 
ble. Custards  and  preserves,  and  the  niceties  of  the 
season,  decorated  with  bouquets  of  flowers,  were  sent 
by  neighbours ;  while  the  coloured  people  brought  eggs 
in  little  baskets,  with  young  poultry  from  thei-r  own  stores. 
One  old  woman  came  to  the  door  and  asked  "just  to 
look  in." 

His  nurse  brought  her  humble  offering,  and  said,  with 
a  courtesying  apology — 

"  I  an't  raise  but  one  chicken  dis  year,  but  I  fetch  'em 
for  my  child's  soup." 

The  first  night  that  I  retired  to  my  own  apartment, 
with  a  heart  weighed  low  by  gratitude,  I  threw  myself 
upon  my  knees  by  the  window  where  the  moonlight  scene 
had  been  so  appalling.  The  stars,  from  their  abodes  of 
darkness,  threw  down  their  glimmering  rays  and  lighted 
my  wseping  eyes.  I  felt  like  one  who  had  been  rescued 
from  a  precipice,  and  looked  back  with  trembling  on  the 
chasm  below.  Did  I  feel  that  a  great  duty  had  been  per- 
formed, and  that  noble  approval  which  gives  us  strength 
to  bear  and  wings  to  fly  1  No  ;  escape  was  the  only 
Q2 


186  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

cause  of  triumph  ;  and  however  men  may  vindicate  duel- 
ling on  grounds  of  expediency,  will  they  not  find  this  the 
predominant  feeling  when  they  survive  1  Not  the  reward 
of  bravery,  not  the  elevating  testimony  of  high  moral 
courage,  but  a  simple  relief  from  some  dark  and  over- 
hanging necessity,  is  the  best  result  of  this  horrid  and 
unnatural  violation  of  social  peace. 

John  returned  with  papa,  and,  after  the  first  strong 
emotions  were  over,  laughter  and  jest  echoed  through  our 
mansion  ;  but  Richard  and  I  for  a  while  dwelt  on  higher 
things.  He  had  been  too  near  the  unknown  abyss  of  a 
future  world  not  to  feel  a  cast  of  solemnity  over  his  soul. 
We  reasoned  together  of  sacred  things — of  death  and  a 
judgment  to  come. 

"  It  may  be  a  vain  speculation,"  he  said  to  me,  "  but  I 
delight  in  anticipating  the  future  state  of  disimbodied 
spirits.  What  are  your  thoughts  on  this  subject,  Cor- 
nelia V 

"  It  is  my  favourite  idea,"  I  answered,  "  that  '  we  shall 
all  be  changed,'  spiritually  as  well  as  physically.  The 
world  has  been  more  bright  to  me  than  to  many,  but  I 
have  no  wish  to  carry  away  any  of  its  recollections. 
Young  as  I  am,  I  am  tired  of  its  struggles.  I  hope  for 
a  butterfly  transition — a  change  from  this  headaching  and 
heartaching  scene  to  a  bright  and  God-sunned  atmosphere. 
I  love  to  think,  that  when  I  have  done  weaving  (faith- 
fully) my  earthly  envelope,  I  shall  spring  from  it,  gor- 
geous and  beautiful,  and  flit  away,  forgetful  of  the  coarse 
chrysalis  that  falls,  as  I  ascend  in  joy  to  my  heavenly 
Father's  spiritual  kingdom.  But  one  thing  I  must  require 
in  my  flight"  (and  I  pressed  Richard's  hand  to  my  cheek), 
"that  brother  butterflies  shall  go  with  me." 

"  I  would  prefer  annihilation,"  said  Richard,  "  to  a 
forgetting  of  my  individual  self.  The  spirit  must  be  able 
to  look  back,  and  compare,  and  judge ;  it  must  feel  its 
growth,  to  be  happy.  Accession  in  knowledge  is  the 
only  test  of  spirituality.  I  cannot  imagine  even  the  Su- 
preme Mind  at  rest ;  it  must  be  experimenting,  creating 
still." 

Thus  we  discoursed  together,  or  I  read  to  him ;  a 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  187 

soothing  quiet  stole  over  us,  and  the  spirit  of  prayer  was 
around  us. 

This  is  the  worth  of  sorrow.  Before  we  suffer,  words 
are  said,  but  the  spirit  prays  not ;  it  is  mere  form  ;  but, 
when  affliction  has  struck  the  rock  of  our  hearts,  and  its 
religious  waters  gush  forth,  we  pray  always ;  that  is,  a 
conscious  presence  of  divinity  is  within  us,  and  our 
thoughts  are  prayers. 

But  this  holy  influence  is  not  felt  by  all,  and  wretched 
are  those  who,  having  tasted  these  waters,  feel  not  that 
the  Lord  is  gracious.  While  Richard  was  convalescent, 
a  neighbour,  a  widow,  lost  her  only  child,  a  daughter. 
We  were  not  in  the  habit  of  visiting  her ;  but,  hearing 
that  she  was  in  distress,  and  without  domestic  friends, 
mamma  commissioned  me  to  go  to  her,  with  such  offers 
of  service  and  sympathy  as  our  own  softened  feelings 
dictated.  In  my  own  equestrian  excursions,  I  had  seen 
Mrs.  Alwyn  riding  about  her  fields.  Her  appearance 
was  remarkable  ;  tall,  masculine  in  her  proportions,  with 
full,  flashing  black  eyes,  she  gave  directions  to  her  peo- 
ple, not  "with  a  low  voice,  that  excellent  thing  in 
woman,"  but  in  coarse  tones  of  encouragement  or  vitu- 
peration. It  was  said  that  the  love  of  gain  and  fear  of 
her  neighbours  were  all  that  restrained  her  from  positive 
cruelty.  She  arose  at  the  dawn  of  day,  and  even  used 
agricultural  implements  herself  to  stimulate  her  negroes. 
She  denied  herself  rest  and  relaxation,  and  spent  a  life 
of  unmitigated  toil,  and  for  what  1  That  she  might  edu- 
cate and  accomplish  her  daughter  ;  and  Maria  "  grew 
like  a  living  flower  beneath  her  eye."  With  her  mother's 
commanding  height,  she  possessed  a  wavy  delicacy  of 
figure  ;  her  mother's  dark  and  flashing  eyes  were,  in  her, 
softened  by  modest  sensibility  ;  she  touched  with  taste 
and  skill  the  piano  which  her  parent's  hard  labour  had 
earned,  and  around  her  apartments  were  hung,  in  expen- 
sive frames,  trophy  after  trophy  of  her  conquests  with  the 
pencil.  While  Mrs.  Alwyn  reconnoitred  the  fields,  a 
terror  to  idlers,  or  attended  to  the  drudgery  of  the  house, 
Maria  lived  secluded,  her  soft  hands  embroidering  taste- 
ful attire,  or  her  dark  eyes  dropping  tears  of  sympathy 


188  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

over  fictitious  sorrow.  It  was  sufficient. happiness  to  her 
mother  to  glance  at  her  white-robed  daughter,  as  she  sat 
apart  like  an  idol  in  its  shrine.  Maria  often  expostulated 
with  her,  and  wrought  tasteful  caps  and  kerchiefs,  and 
playfully  arrayed  her  mother  in  them,  but  with  little 
effect.  Mrs.  Alwyn  strode  about  in  her  soiled  and  tat- 
tered dress,  not  hesitating,  as  occasion  demanded,  to  test 
the  strength  of  her  hand  on  the  ears  and  shoulders  of 
some  unhappy  loiterer.  I  had  met  Maria  at  church,  and 
occasionally  in  my  rambles,  and  had  thought  of  knowing 
her  further,  as  I  heard  details  of  her  situation  and  char- 
acter, when  I  learned  that  she  was  suddenly  withdrawn 
from  this  living  and  moving  scene.  I  willingly  hastened 
to  her  bereaved  mother. 

I  was  ushered  in  by  her  frightened-looking  servant, 
with  that  light  and  solemn  tread  which  we  see  where 
death  is.  I  was  shocked  to  observe  the  body  of  the  de- 
ceased laid  out  on  a  table  in  the  parlour,  in  order  to  be 
near,  as  I  learned  afterward,  to  her  mother,  that  she  might 
see  her  while  she  prepared  the  house  for  the  funeral.  A 
white  shroud  and  sheet  inwrapped  the  body,  and  there 
seemed  to  be  a  supernatural  extent  in  the  tall  figure,  as 
the  pointed  toes  stood  up  beneath  the  thin  covering.  Over 
the  beautiful  eyes,  now  but  partially  closed,  lay  pieces  of 
metal.  Was  this  indeed  Maria,  thus  cold  and  pale  as 
new-fallen  snow  1 

Mrs.  Alwyn  sat  where  she  could  watch  the  corpse  and 
gaze  upon  its  countenance.  She  held  a  plate  in  her 
hand,  and  a  towel,  as  if  she  had  been  wiping  it.  A  stern 
coldness  was  mingled  with  her  grief,  and  she  rocked  to 
and  fro  in  her  chair,  with  the  motion  which  sorrow  loves. 

I  entered ;  she  regarded  me  with  a  slight  motion  of 
the  head.  I  took  her  hand — it  was  passive.  I  spoke, 
but  there  was  no  answer,  and  I  sat  down  in  silence.  At 
length,  with  a  look  in  which  distress  and  anger  were 
strangely  blended,  she  said — 

"  There  she  is,  Miss  Wilton  !  see  what  it's  come  to  ! 
a  beautiful  corpse  she  is !  That  girl  an't  done  a  thing 
to  trouble  her  mother's  heart  since  she  came  into  the 
world,  a  stark  baby,  till  now.     Do  you  see  them  pictures  V 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  189 

(and  she  pointed  with  her  soiled  dark  fingers  from  one 
to  the  other.)  "  I  have  toiled  night  and  day,  I've  worked 
like  a  nigger,  and  more  than  any  nigger,  I've  been  up 
early  and  abed  late,  to  get  that  girl  a  genteel  education, 
and  what  has  it  all  come  to  1  Look  at  that  piano — I  put 
the  hay  into  the  loft  with  a  pitchfork  with  my  own  hands, 
to  let  the  niggers  have  time  to  bring  that  here.  Didn't 
she  sing  sweetly  ?  I  worked  my  fingers  most  to  the 
bone  for  them  pictures  and  music,  and  what  has  it  all 
come  to  1  Just  look  at  her  and  see.  Where's  her  voice 
now  1  What  has  it  all  come  to  1  Wasn't  she  a  pretty- 
faced  girl,  with  her  white  hands,  that  I  wouldn't  let  so 
much  as  wash  up  a  cup  1  Look  at  them  now,  stiff  and 
still !"  (I  turned  and  shuddered  as  I  looked  at  Maria's 
long  straight  arm  as  it  lay  in  her  shroud.) 

"  Miss  Wilton,  it  don't  seem  to  me  as  if  I  can  bear  it, 
or  as  if  I  ought  to." 

I  ventured  to  suggest  a  reliance  on  a  higher  Power, 
who  afflicts  only  in  mercy. 

"  It  tan't  no  mercy,"  said  she,  passionately.  "  I 
wouldn't  treat  a  dog  so.  If  you  had  a  garden  full  of 
seeds,  and  saw  them  come  up  and  blow  out  beautiful, 
and  their  stalks  grow  greener  and  bigger  every  day,  while 
you  was  watering  them,  do  you  think  it  would  be  merci- 
ful if  anybody  was  to  come  and  tramp  them  all  down, 
and  pull  up  your  pretty  flowers  by  the  root  1  There 
wasn't  a  prettier  flower  in  all  creation  than  that,"  con- 
tinued she,  pointing  to  the  lifeless  form,  "  and  now  see 
what  she  is." 

"  She  was  a  lovely  girl,"  said  I,  "  and  you  had  reason 
to  be  proud  of  her.  I  have  often  observed  her  tall, 
graceful  figure  as  she  came  into  church.  I  am  glad  to 
hear  that  she  was  kind  and  dutiful ;  that,  at  least,  muat 
comfort  you." 

"  'Tan't  no  comfort,"  said  Mrs.  Alwyn,  bitterly.  "  If 
she  hi  d  been  cross  and  ugly,  she  might  have  gone  and 
welcome.  What  is  the  use  of  having  a  person  about 
you  that  an't  pleasant  ?  But  I'll  tell  you  what  is  a  mor- 
tal hard  case ;  to  have  something  taken  away  that  was 
the  delight  of  your  eyes ;  one  who  used  to  be  the  first 


190  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

object  you  loved  to  look  at  in  the  morning,  and  the  last 
at  night.  In  the  morning,  when  I  came  from  the  field,  I 
used  to  go  to  her  bedroom  and  wake  her.  How  pretty 
she  was  on  her  pillow,  with  one  cheek  all  red  like  a  rose, 
where  she  had  laid  on  it,  and  the  other  like  a  lily  !  and 
when  I  said  '  Maria !'  how  she  rubbed  her  eyes  like  a 
child,  and  half  pouted  and  half  smiled  as  I  waked  her. 
Where  is  the  rosy  cheek  now  ?" 

My  heart  thrilled  as  I  saw  its  paleness. 

"  And  then,"  continued  her  mother,  "  she  sat  so  lady- 
like at  table,  as  if  she  had  been  born  and  bred  genteel ; 
her  frocks  like  snow,  and  her  cambric  handkerchiefs  in 
her  lap.  At  night  1  used  to  go  in  and  tuck  up  her  bed  ; 
she  was  always  at  her  books,  or  her  work,  or  reading  her 
Bible,  or  on  her  knees  at  prayer,  for  she  was  a  pious 
child." 

"  You  must  at  least  be  grateful  that  her  mind  was  so 
pure,  and  pious,  and  prepared  for  death,"  said  I. 

"Grateful!"  replied  she,  angrily.  " What  good  will 
it  do  me  1  I  shall  be  none  the  better  for  her  hymns  and 
her  prayers.  If  she  had  stayed,  I  could  have  heard  her 
sweet  voice.  Now,  I've  worked  my  fingers  to  the  bone 
just  for  that  dead  body.  I  can't  bear  it,  and  that's  an 
end  of  the  matter.  I  don't  think  it's  fair  that  she  should 
die.  Well,  I  must  go  to  work  and  bury  her,"  muttered 
she,  in  a  lower  tone,  and  retiring  into  the  next  apartment, 
where  she  could  still  glance  at  her  lifeless  child. 

I  stood  a  while  and  meditated  on  the  early  dead.  Her 
image  came  before  me  as  I  had  often  seen  her  enter 
church,  dressed  with  exquisite  care,  and  a  reference  to 
the  changing  shades  of  fashion.  Her  head  had  a  gentle 
bend  or  wave,  from  a  consciousness  of  her  height,  which, 
as  she  did  not  stoop,  was  rather  graceful,  while  her  cheek, 
usually  pale,  was  lighted  up  by  the  thought  of  public  ob- 
servation. She  often  rested  an  ungloved  hand  on  the  side 
of  the  pew,  which,  as  it  was  delicately  white,  and  glitter- 
ing with  jewels,  I  sometimes  thought  was  for  display  ;  but 
her  modest  eyes  seemed  to  deny  it ;  and  her  voice,  rising 
in  rich  and  earnest  tones  in  the  hymns  and  chants,  and 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  191 

her  air  of  devotion  in  prayer,  showed  an  engagedness 
that  comported  not  with  vanity. 

Now  I  saw  her  stretched  on  her  hard  resting-place, 
death  giving  that  supernatural  length  to  her  tall  form ; 
those  glazed  eyes,  that  were  so  lately  lit  up  with  intel- 
lectual glory,  but  partially  closed  by  the  heavy  metal  on 
the  starting  lids  ;  those  feet,  which  had  trod  the  aisles 
with  light  and  graceful  movement,  stiff  and  prominent 
under  the  white  death-clothing ;  that  fair  hand,  whose 
sparkling  gems  had  glittered  to  the  observer,  dazzling  m 
whiteness  still,  but  with  the  unrosy  paleness  of  the  grave. 

Her  wretched  mother's  unbelief  saddened  still  more 
this  painful  picture.  Could  she  have  looked  on  her  with 
Christian  trust,  and  fancied  that  spirit  translated  to  the 
garden  of  heaven,  where  blight,  and  frost,  and  tear-dews 
fall  not ;  could  she  have  fancied  her  upward-soaring,  and 
retained  but  a  fold  of  her  garment  to  aid  her  own  flight, 
how  would  her  cold  heart  have  felt  the  change  !  But 
alas  !  the  grave  was  to  her  the  end  of  all  this  sweetness- 
and  truth  ;  faith  stood  not  by  that  grave,  with  patient  eye 
and  folded  wing,  ready  to  spread,  at  God's  command, 
either  over  the  path  of  earthly  duty  or  spiritual  joy. 

But  grief  will  be  busy.  The  miserable  mother  deco- 
rated the  cold  corpse  with  all  that  custom  and  fashion 
demand ;  the  finest  cambric  enshrouded  it,  the  sheerest 
muslin  lay  on  that  pale  forehead ;  the  coffin  glittered 
with  funeral  ornaments ;  ceremony  lingered  in  the  well- 
ordered  procession ;  and  in  a  few  months  a  pompous- 
monument  proclaimed  to  the  world  the  death  and  the  vir- 
tues of  Maria  Alwyn. 

This  picture  (literally  true)  is  a  startling  representa- 
tion of  an  irreligious,  uncultivated  mind ;  but  are  there 
not  many  who  secretly  carry  out  these  sacrilegious  feel- 
ings when  God  lays  their  earthly  blessings  in  the  dust  1 


192  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

MY    BROTHER    Ben's    EDUCATION. 

^  "  He  saw  whatever  thou  hast  seen  ; 

Encountered  all  that  troubles  thee  : 
He  was— whatever  thou  hast  been  ; 
He  is — what  thou  shalt  be." 


#>' 


We  were  at  this  period  made  unhappy  by  my  brother 
Benjamin's  abrupt  return  from  school ;  and  it  may  not  be 
unprofitable  to  relate  his  reverses  before  and  after  this 
time,  independently  of  my  narrative. 

Why  are  there  no  more  ripe  and  accomplished  schol- 
ars among  us  ]  The  secret,  I  apprehend,  will  be  par- 
tially understood,  if  the  progress  of  his  education  is  ex- 
amined. It  will  probably  awaken  the  sympathetic  groans 
of  many  a  young  man,  who  has  to  mourn  over  a  similar 
experience.  I  fear  we  must  look  forward  to  an  indefinite 
repetition  of  similar  consequences,  _until_  Charleston  shall 
jprovide  one  grand  and  uniform  institution,  or  system  of 
institutions,  for  the  education  of  her  youth,  that  shall  be 
unaffected  by  the  death  or  change  of  teachers,  or  the 
boundless  variety  of  text-books ;  and  until  parents  shall 
co-operate  cheerfully  with  the  rules  of  such  a  system. 

At  the  age  of  nine  years,  Ben  was  placed  at  one  of  the 
best  schools  in  Charleston,  and  boarded  in  a  private  fam- 
ily. He  was  a  lad  of  excellent  abilities ;  rather  more 
fond,  indeed,  of  his  play  and  horses  than  of  study,  but 
never  wilfully  backward  at  his  lesson.  His  teacher,  be- 
sides superintending  the  usual  branches  of  his  English 
education,  put  him  early  into  the  Latin  grammar.  Ben 
was  punctual  at  school,  and  learned  two  or  three  of  his 
lessons  every  evening  at  home.  When  we  were  in  town, 
I  gave  him  what  assistance  I  could,  though  now  and  then 
a  hearty  cry  took  place  over  the  difficulties  which  neither 
he  nor  I  could  comprehend.     His  troubles   at  school 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  193 

were  of  the  ordinary  description — sometimes  a  detention 
till  long  after  the  dinner-hour — sometimes  a  severe  chas- 
tisement for  noise  or  carelessness — and  sometimes  a 
station  far  below  the  middle  of  his  class.  Yet  he  was 
evidently  making  an  improvement  in  most  of  his  studies  ; 
and  could  his  present  opportunities  have  been  continued, 
Ken  might  have  become,  in  time,  a  very  respectable 
scholar.  Unfortunately,  however,  his  teacher,  at  the  end 
of  the  year,  abandoned  his  occupation  for  a  profession, 
and  Ben  was  thrown  loose  on  the  scholastic  world. 

After  some  time,  another  teacher  was  procured  for 
him.  On  entering  his  new  place  of  instruction,  he  was 
examined  in  all  his  studies,  and  pronounced  to  be  miser- 
ably deficient  in  every  respect.  The  fact  is,  this  gen- 
tleman made  no  allowance  whatever  for  the  perturbation 
of  the  poor  boy's  mind  ;  when  suddenly  brought  before  a 
strange  teacher,  his  attention  being  distracted  by  a  new 
and  noisy  school,  and  that,  too,  after  a  month  or  more  of 
entire  interruption  in  his  studies.  The  learned  gentleman 
found  particular  fault  with  Ben's  ignorance  of  the  multi- 
plication table  and  Latin  grammar,  and  took  occasion 
to  express  some  doubts  of  the  capacity  of  his  former  in- 
structer  to  teach  in  those  departments.  I  need  not  say 
how  very  unjust  was  such  an  inference.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  my  brother  was  ordered  to  begin  all  his  books  again, 
and  was  stationed  in  a  class  inferior  to  that  which  he  had 
left  at  the  other  school.  He  came  home  completely 
discouraged  and  mortified ;  disgusted  alike  with  learning 
and  with  his  new  instructer. 

May  I  be  permitted,  with  due  modesty,  to  suggest,  that 
much  mischief  is  occasionally  inflicted  in  this  way  on  in- 
genuous and  well-intentioned  youth,  in  consequence  of  an 
examination,  which  can  only  be  superficial  and  imper- 
fect ?  Would  it  not  be  more  proper  to  take  the  word  of 
the  parents  and  of  the  former  teacher  as  to  the  progress 
already  made  by  the  pupil  ?  It  would  be  found,  in  a 
short  time,  that  he  could  easily  revive  his  former  knowl- 
edge, without  being  necessitated  to  lose  his  standing  for 
a  whole  year,  or  to  suffer  a  mortifying  degradation. 

But  the  feelings  of  youth  are.  elastic.  It  is  one  of  the 
R 


194  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 

blessings  of  that  period  of  life,  that  its  mortifications  are 
not  attended  with  enduring  bitterness.  Ben  accommo- 
dated himself  to  his  new  situation  with  tolerable  grace  ; 
and  by  the  close  of  another  year  he  had  just  about  re- 
gained that  point  in  his  progress  at  which  he  had  been 
left  by  his  former  teacher.  In  consequence,  however,  of 
falling  into  some  untoward  scrape,  he  was  chastised  with 
undue  severity  by  his  tutor,  who  was  a  man  of  violent 
passions.  Papa's  temper  was  equally  violent,  and  the 
affair  terminated  in  an  abrupt  withdrawal  of  my  brother 
Ben  from  his  present  school,  and  his  transference  to  an- 
other. 

From  the  precipitancy  with  which  this  exchange  was 
effected,  papa  had  no  opportunity  to  institute  any  minute 
inquiry  as  to  the  merits  or  studies  of  Ben's  new  school. 
The  boy  trotted  off  with  much  cheerfulness  on  the  first 
morning  of  his  attendance,  and  with  his  satchel  full  of 
his  old  schoolbooks.  But  papa  was  not  a  little  sur- 
prised and  mortified  in  seeing  Ben  return  home  at  about 
ten  o'clock,  with  his  heavy  satchel  on  his  arm,  and  a 
note  from  his  new  teacher,  requesting  that  the  boy  should 
be  furnished  with  an  entirely  new  set  of  books,  since 
those  which  he  had  brought  with  him  to  school  were 
now  quite  out  of  date.  Pike's  Arithmetic  was  to  be  ex- 
changed for  Daboll's  ;  Morse's  Geography  for  Cum- 
ming's  ;  Ruddiman's  Latin  Grammar  for  Adam's  ;  Web- 
ster's Spelling-book  for  Carpenter's  ;  Bingham's  English 
Grammar  for  Murray's  ;  the  American  Selection  for  the 
English  Reader ;  the  New  Testament  for  the  whole  Bible  ; 
while  one  set  of  copy-slips  was  to  be  substituted  for  an- 
other ;  a  single-ruled  writing-book  for  a  double-ruled 
one,  which  Ben  had  just  begun  ;  and  the  gentleman  had 
even  the  thoroughgoingness  to  request  that  my  brother's 
large,  stout  new  slate  might  be  exchanged  for  a  recently- 
invented  tablet,  which  would  come  in  requisition  at  cer- 
tain times  when  the  blackboard  should  not  be  used. 

In  general,  papa  was  very  liberally  disposed  as  to  pe- 
cuniary matters,  and  was  always  particularly  willing  to 
encourage  suggested  improvements  in  education.  But  it 
so  happened,  that  this  year  his  crops  had  been  lamenta- 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  195 

bly  cut  short,  and  the  prices  of  rice  and  cotton  were  very 
much  depressed.  This,  added  to  the  irritability  under 
which  he  was  still  labouring  from  his  difficulty  with  the 
preceding  teacher,  excited  him,  in  a  moment  of  self-for- 
getfulness,  to  exclaim  that  he  would  not  procure  a  single 
one  of  those  newfangled  books,  and  that  he  did  not  care 
whether  Ben  attended  any  of  those  vexatious  schools  or 
not.  I  knew  it  was  hopeless  to  attempt  to  change  this 
unhappy  mood  immediately,  and  the  result  was,  that  poor 
Ben  ran  about  the  streets  for  a  full  week  unoccupied, 
gathering  large  stores  of  boyish  experience  no  doubt,  but 
sadly  falling  behindhand  in  point  of  literary  cultivation. 

It  was  now  time  for  me  to  interfere ;  indeed,  I  was 
conscious  that  papa,  having  gotten  the  better  of  his  tem- 
per, and  opened  his  mind  to  the  influence  of  reason,  was 
only  waiting  for  a  word  or  two  from  me,  in  order  to  enter 
upon  a  more  praiseworthy  course.  One  morning,  there- 
fore, at  the  breakfast-table,  I  ventured  to  express  my  re- 
gret that  Ben  should  continue  in  his  present  unhappy 
state  of  idleness,  and  suggested  that  he  might  possibly 
have  been  fortunate  in  making  an  exchange  of  teachers  ; 
for  it  was  to  be  supposed  that  improvements  must  be 
going  on  in  schoolbooks  as  well  as  in  everything  else. 
It  cost  me  but  a  few  words  to  obtain  permission  to  go  out 
that  very  morning  in  pursuit  of  the  whole  appointed  list. 

I  searched  every  book-store  in  the  city,  finding  one 
book  here  and  another  there,  but  was  unable  to  procure 
more  than  half  the  prescribed  number.  I  was  assured, 
that  if  I  had  called  but  two  or  three  days  before,  I  might 
have  obtained  some  of  the  most  important  of  those  which 
were  wanting.  But  it  was  now  too  late,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  await  a  new  importation  from  the  North. 
Steamboats,  in  those  days,  arrived  not  with  weekly  punc- 
tuality ;  and,  therefore,  Ben  was  compelled  to  run  wild 
nearly  another  month  before  he  could  enter  the  wished- 
for  school,  equipped,  externally  at  least,  with  all  the  ed- 
ucational improvements  of  the  age. 

My  brother,  who  had  now  arrived  at  an  age  of  some 
reflection,  found  himself,  somewhat  to  his  astonishment, 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  science.     The  preceding  years 


196  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 

appeared  to  his  view  like  a  vacant  dream.  Young  as 
he  was,  he  could  not  help  inquiring  what  had  become  of 
them  ;  but  supposing  that  Heaven  and  parental  guardian- 
ship had  ordered  all  things  aright  in  this  matter,  he  re- 
solved to  dismiss  unavailing  regrets,  and  begin  anew, 
with  commendable  diligence  and  ardour,  the  study  of 
numeration,  and  of  the  definite  and  indefinite  articles, 
and  of  the  astronomical  introduction  to  geography. 

We  could  find  no  fault  with  Ben's  present  teacher. 
The  lad  made  a  satisfactory  progress  in  his  studies,  and 
all  things  flowed  along  in  peace  until  August  of  the  next 
year,  when  his  preceptor,  who  happened  to  be  a  native 
of  New-England,  was  fatally  attacked  by  the  yellow 
fever,  and  died,  leaving  his  school  involved  in  sorrow 
and  confusion.  There  was  no  more  study  for  that  sea- 
son ;  and  we  were  obliged  to  wait  until  late  in  the  au- 
tumn before  a  gentleman  could  be  procured  to  undertake 
the  school  on  his  own  account.  My  brother  was,  of 
course,  injured  by  this  unfortunate  intermission  in  his 
studies.  He  lost  somewhat  in  his  power  of  application, 
and  gained  as  much  in  his  inclination  for  all  kinds  of 
youthful  amusements.  His  new  preceptor,  not  only  de- 
sirous of  making  up  the  recently  lost  time  of  his  school, 
but  being  one  of  those  teachers  who  are  over-stimulated 
by  the  ambition  of  advancing  his  pupils  with  wonderful 
rapidity,  heaped  lesson  upon  lesson,  and  even  required 
several  new  branches  and  books  to  be  learned,  in  order 
that  he  might  surprise  the  parents  and  the  committee,  at 
the  succeeding  annual  examination,  with  the  unequalled 
results  of  his  labours.  Ben  humorously  requested  his 
father  to  furnish  him  with  a  horse  and  dray  to  transport 
his  books  between  the  school  and  the  house.  It  was  in- 
deed no  small  physical  labour  for  him  to  carry  his  little 
library  backward  and  forward.  His  satchel,  though 
of  large  dimensions,  could  not  contain  the  whole,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  carry  several  books  under  his  left  arm. 
Groaning  and  perspiring,  grumbling  and  bantering  to- 
gether, he  lugged  to  and  fro  his  heavy  loads  for  a  few 
days,  until  papa  purchased  for  him  a  small,  strong  white 
horse,  with  tail  and  mane  closely  cropped,     I  manufac- 


SOUTHERN    MATHON.  197 

ttti'ed  for  him  a  new  sack,  resembling  more  a  clothesbag 
than  a  satchel.  Putting  into  this  the  whole  of  his  school 
furniture,  and  placing  it  on  the  neck  of  his  favourite 
pony,  he  mounted  and  rode  off  with  a  lighter  body  at 
least,  if  not  with  a  lighter  heart,  than  he  had  lately  en- 
joyed. 

He  was  now  beginning  to  be  ashamed  of  the  back- 
wardness of  his  learning,  compared  with  his  age.  He 
conceived  a  new  and  passionate  fondness  for  study. 
He  arose  every  morning  at  dawn,  and  retired  not  to  rest 
until  near  midnight.  He  even  refused  to  devote  any 
hours  to  recreation,  so  determined  was  he  to  realize  the 
whole  system  of  his  present  teacher,  and  to  accomplish 
every  one  of  his  lessons  in  the  most  perfect  manner. 
But  this  was  more  than  the  powers  of  nature  could  bear. 
He  pursued  the  present  course  about  three  months,  and 
found  his  health  and  constitution  rapidly  giving  way. 
The  family  physician  being  consulted,  directed  that  he 
should  quit  school  and  books  altogether  for  some  time, 
and  reside  with  mamma  in  the  country.  Thus,  by  making 
too  much  haste,  poor  Ben,  as  well  as  his  teacher,  rather 
retarded  than  accelerated  his  progress.  He  passed  a 
few  weeks  in  the  country,  entirely  abandoned  to  amuse- 
ments, and  returned  to  town  in  perfect  health.  On  again 
attending  school,  he  experienced  the  immense  disadvan- 
tage of  being  far  behind  his  class.  The  studies  which 
he  had  missed  were  indispensably  necessary  to  a  right 
understanding  of  his  present  lessons.  This  circumstance, 
added  to  the  sufferings  he  had  already  endured  from  over- 
application,  threw  Ben  into  complete  despair.  Finding 
it  impossible  to  accomplish  all  his  tasks  in  a  tolerable 
manner,  he  grew  indifferent  and  inattentive.  He  was 
contented  to  remain  at  the  foot  of  his  class,  and  was 
proof  against  any  species  of  degradation  and  punish- 
ment. He  frequently  played  the  truant.  He  protracted 
his  Lolydays  in  the  country  till  near  the  first  of  February 
and  the  middle  of  May.  His  afternoons  in  town  were 
devoted  to  riding  on  his  little  horse,  whose  flesh  rapidly 
disappeared  by  racings  on  the  battery  and  gallopings 
through  Meeting-street,  at  the  peril  of  all  the  negro  chil- 
dren in  his  way. 


198  RECOLLECTIONS  OF    A 

It  was  now  full  time  to  try  a  new  experiment  with  my 
unlucky  brother.  A  school  happened  to  be  opened  near 
our  residence  ;  and  as  it  was  but  too  manifest  that  Ben 
was  wasting  away  his  precious  youth  by  his  present  ca- 
reer, we  determined  on  seizing  this  opportunity  to  make 
an  exchange,  and  give  him  another  chance  for  improve- 
ment. Accordingly,  he  became  a  pupil  of  our  new  neigh- 
bour, whom,  if  I  were  devising  characteristic  names  for 
the  teachers  enumerated  in  this  chapter,  I  might  call  by 
the  appropriate  title  of  Mr.  Easy.  If  Ben  was  before 
oppressed  with  the  multitude  of  his  tasks,  he  had  now 
far  too  little  to  accomplish.  When  a  lesson  was  assigned 
him  to  be  learned  at  home,  which  was  but  seldom  the 
case,  he  might  attend  to  it  or  not,  as  he  chose,  for  it  was 
never  exacted  from  him.  His  teacher  was  all  indulgence  ; 
going  nominally  over  the  common  branches  of  learning 
with  his  pupils,  but  leaving  it  to  their  own  genius  and 
good  sense  whether  any  of  them  should  become  scholars 
or  idlers.  Now  Ben  had  not  quite  sufficient  independ- 
ent energy  to  make  much  progress  under  a  system  like 
this.  He  was  naturally  docile,  and  would  have  lent  him- 
self kindly  to  the  influences  of  any  good  and  effective 
method.  But  being  somewhat  of  a  victim  to  circumstances, 
he  could  not  resist  the  thousand  temptations  of  a  city  life, 
when  opposed  to  the  feeble  prescriptions  of  an  indulgent 
preceptor.  Accordingly,  he  was  in  a  fair  way  of  being 
ruined.  His  talk  was  of  horses.  His  companions  were 
idlers.  He  commenced  playing  on  the  guitar.  He  was 
a  precocious  dandy.  His  thoughts  were  over-much 
given  to  dancing,  and  gallantry,  and  all  those  other  arts 
by  which  the  precious  sands  of  time  are  irrevocably 
wasted.  Fortunately,  the  school  which  he  now  attended 
died  a  natural  death.  It  had  not  sufficient  stamina  to 
keep  itself  alive.  One  after  another  of  the  pupils  dropped 
away,  and  the  incapable  teacher  emigrated  to  Alabama, 
leaving  my  brother  Ben,  with  only  two  fellow-students,  to 
seek  for  better  places  of  education. 

Just  about  this  time,  advertisements  appeared  in  the 
daily  prints,  announcing  anew  institution,  to  be  conducted 
on  a    highly   improved  and  refined  plan.      The   public 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  199 

were  told  that  appeals  would  be  made  entirely  to  the 
good  feelings  of  the  pupils— jhjiUjyerything  like  corporeal 
chastisement  would  be  banished — that  the  memory  and 
other  inferior  faculties  of  the  mind  would  be  very  little 
cultivated — while  almost  exclusive  attention  would  be 
paid  to  the  development  of  the  reason  and  other  higher  -"/ 
powers.  Dazzled  by  these  brilliant  promises,  papa  and 
Ben  conceived  that  all  former  disappointments  were  now 
to  be  cancelled  ;  and  that  nothing  but  the  happiest  career 
was  opened  before  the  sanguine  and  ambitious  young 
man.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  candidates  for  the  ben- 
efits of  this  improved  and  refined  system.  For  a  time, 
everything  flowed  on  smoothly  and  sweetly  in  this  para- 
dise of  academies.  The  millennium  of  education  seemed 
to  have  arrived.  The  teacher  was  a  man  of  polished 
and  plausible  deportment,  and  fascinated  my  brother's 
imagination  and  good-will.  But  before  long,  Ben  discov- 
ered that  he  could  make  no  progress  in  the  classics  with- 
outrarconsiderable  tax  on  his  memory — the  declensions 
and  the  rules  of  his  Greek  and  Latin  grammars  were  not 
always  ready  on  his  tongue — and  on  such  occasions  his 
teacher  was  apt  to  fret,  and  assign  my  brother  pretty  heavy 
tasks  to  commit  to  memory  at  home.  Those^ong  conversa-  "B^ 
tions  and  processes  of  reasoning,  /too,  which  were  to  de-  A|£ 
velop  the  youthful  mind,  and  which  were  so  charming 
to  Ben  in  the  outset,  grew  at  length  to  be  somewhat  fa- 
tiguing— his  attention  would  too  frequently  lag,  and  thus 
incense  his  preceptor — and  he  would  sometimes  doubt 
the  cogency  of  his  arguments  or  statements,  instead  of 
assenting  to  them  with  that  beautiful  docility  which 
was  at  first  equally  agreeable  to  both  teacher  and  pupil. 
One  day,  especially,  when  all  these  various  grievances 
had  swelled  and  festered  to  an  outbreaking  point,  Ben 
very  rudely  questioned  some  position  or  reasoning  of  his 
preceptor.  The  latter  replied  indignantly.  Ben  followed 
up  his  insubordination.  The  teacher,  forgetting  his  own 
maxim  respecting  personal  chastisement,  gave  Ben  a  se- 
vere blow,  which  was  immediately  retorted  by  the  fiery 
lad,  and  a  downright  engagement  between  them  ensued 
before  the  whole  school.     The  consequence  was,  that  my 


200  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A 

brother  appeared  at  dinner-table  that  day  with  black  and 
blue  marks  on  his  countenance,  and  was  soon  after 
expelled  from  the  institution. 

He  was  now  sent  to  an  academy  at  the  North,  where 
he  passed  another  year.  But  the  previous  habits  and 
fortunes  of  his  life  had  poorly  fitted  him  to  sustain  the 
duties  of  this  new  situation.  With  shame  and  regret,  he 
found  himself  far  behind  his  companions  and  equals  in 
age,  and  knew  no  other  way  to  obtain  the  notoriety  of 
which  youth  in  general  are  so  fond,  than  to  launch  out 
into  a  life  of  brilliant  extravagance  and  dissipation.  This 
course  soon  exhausted  not  only  the  very  liberal  allow- 
ances transmitted  by  my  father,  but  also  the  copious  re- 
mittances secretly  forwarded  by  my  mother ;  and  at  the 
end  of  a  year  he  was  recalled  home,  with  an  unsettled 
character  and  disposition. 

A  succession  of  struggles  enabled  him  to  enter  a 
Southern  college,  and,  after  many  suspensions  and  fines, 
bring  us  home  a  diploma  and  a  blue  riband. 

The  question  now  again  to  be  asked  is,  Where  is  the 
remedy  for  this  imperfect  education — for  evils  which  so 
many  of  both  sexes  have  felt,  in  common  with  poor  Ben  1 
The  most  obvious  mode  that  occurs  to  me  is,  to  convert 
schools  into  places  for  teaching  instead  of  recitation.  As 
the  present  plan  operates,  every  parent  would  willingly 
change  offices  with  the  teacher  ;  that  is,  if  a  master 
would  superintend  the  committing  a  lesson  to  memory, 
with  the  requisite  explanations,  the  parent  would  very 
gladly  hear  it  recited. 

Would  it  not  be  practicable  for  masters  to  teach,  and 
explain,  and  see  that  a  lesson  is  committed  one  day,  and 
hear  it  recited  the  next  1  A  few  parents  might  complain 
that  the  boys  and  girls  were  idle  at  home,  merely  from 
habit ;  but  they  would  soon  find  their  gain  in  being  able 
to  cultivate  some  favourite  study,  in  exercise,  &c.  I  am 
confident  that  if  Ben  had  been  taught  his  lessons  at 
school,  it  would  have  changed  the  whole  habit  of  his 
mind. 

How  ill  suited  is  a  bustling  parlour  for  the  studies  of 
children,  and  how  few  parents  know  how  to  teach ! 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  201 

I  do  not  mean,  in  these  remarks,  to  say  one  disrespect- 
ful word  of  teachers.  A  more  conscientious,  self-sacri- 
ficing, enlightened  class  of  persons  than  they  cannot  he 
found,  and  they  but  comply  with  the  customs  around 
them  in  their  present  system ;  but,  to  justify  my  remarks, 
I  have  only  to  state,  that  the  evil  referred  to  has  reached 
such  a  height,  that  some  parents  have  been  under  the 
necessity  of  hiring  instructers  at  night  to  teach  their 
children  the  school  lessons  for  the  following  day.  If  the 
system  continue  as  it  is,  the  name  of  teacher  should  be 
changed  to  lesson-hearer. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

i 

MARION. DUMB    BELLA. THE    INDIAN. A    WEDDING. 

"  But  who  is  she,  retiring  and  alone, 
That  makes  her  thoughts  by  sign  and  gesture  known  ? 
No  voice  escapes  those  lips  in  accents  dear, 
'Tis  one  dead  silence  all  from  year  to  year. 
Yet  let  not  pity  too  officious  rise ; 
Nature  compensates  that  which  it  denies. 
The  expressive  look — the  motion  fraught  with  grace — 
May  rival  language  and  supply  its  place  : 
And  for  that  senseless  ear  perchance  are  given 
Ethereal  sounds,  and  intercourse  with  heaven." 

S.  Gilman. 

Is  Marion  forgotten  1  asks  some  young  girl,  to  whom 
love  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  a  story.  No,  not  for- 
gotten ;  but  I  never  proposed  to  write  a.  love-story  in 
these  simple  details,. whose  object  is  to  show  the  habits 
of  Southern  domestic  life. 

I  must  confess,  however,  that  an  expecting  look  was 
cast  up  the  avenue  as  strangers  approached,  and  a  tre- 
mour  felt  when  he  actually  came.  There  was  a  slight 
abstraction,  too,  in  his  manners,  which  the  students  of 
love-thermometers  might  have  supposed  a  suspicious  cir- 
cumstance.     Whenever  he   saw  me  on  horseback  he 


202  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

looked  wistfully,  and  his  face  reddened.      My  dress  was 
entirely  different  from  that  in  which  he  had  seen  me  at 
the  time  of  my   bouleversernent ;  my  height  and  manner 
were  altered,  and  I  always  began  to  jest  on  trifling  topics, 
for  I  was  frightened  at  the  thought  of  a  disclosure  after 
what  had  passed.     It  seemed  to  me  as  if  feminine  pride 
called  on  me  to  keep  my  secret,  since  Anna  and  Lewis, 
who  alone  could  have  revealed  it  gracefully,  were  gone. 
Marion  was  preparing  himself  for  usefulness.     Inher- 
iting a  large  estate,  he  did  not  feel  authorized  to  enter 
on  its  duties  without  some  personal  discipline.     He  at- 
tended medical  and  surgical  lectures,  that  he  might  sup- 
ply with  advice  the  accidental  wants  of  his  peoples   and 
interested  himself  in  mechanics,  as  a  means  of  saving 
labour  on  his  plantation.      His  fine  person  never  looked 
"more  noble  to  me  than  when,  in  his  workman's  jacket, 
with  his  tools  in  his  hand,  he  superintended,   and  even 
aided,  the  works  of  his  people.     He  felt  the  responsibil- 
ity of  his  situation,  and  looked  with  a  steady  and  inqui- 
ring eye  on  his  duties,  removing  evil  where  it  was  prac- 
ticable, and  ameliorating  what  was  inevitable.     It  was 
not  gain  only  that  he  sought ;  he  was  aware  that  he  con- 
trolled the  happiness  of  a  large  family  of  his  fellow-crea- 
tures.     He  neither  permitted  himself  to  exercise  oppres- 
sion, nor  tolerated  it  in  others.     Happy  human  faces  were 
his  delight,  and  the  blessings  that  followed  his  footsteps 
were  like  angel  voices  crowning  his  cares.     He  felt  how 
much  a  planter  has  to  answer  to  man  and  to  God  in  the 
patriarchal  relation  he  holds,  and  he  shrank  not  indolently 
from  the   arduous  demand.      High  responsibility   exalts 
the  character  of  a  good  man,  and  I  could  not  but  perceive 
the  growth  of  principle  in  Marion's  words  and   actions, 
while  I  heard  among  some  of  the  young  men  who  visited 
us  a  tone  of  frivolity  that  sadly  contrasted  with  his  ear- 
nest dignity  of  thought  and  expression.     I   insensibly 
prized  him  for  this  difference,  and  felt  how  much  safer 
would  be  the  happiness  of  a  wife  in  his  keeping  than  in 
that  of  a  mere  idler. 

The  moral  education  of  Southern  youth  should  be  di- 
rected to  their  peculiar  duties  ;  indeed,  there  are  passages 


SOUTHERN    MATRON*  203 

in  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testament  which  apply 
peculiarly  to  our  institutions,  and  which,  though  almost 
negative  elsewhere,  are  exquisitely  beautiful  in  the  clas- 
sification of  relative  duties  here.  "  Masters,  give  unto 
your  servants  that  which  is  just  and  equal,  knowing  that 
ye  also  have  a  master  in  heaven."  "  Ye  masters,  for- 
bear threatening,  knowing  that  your  master  is  also  in 
heaven,  neither  is  there  respect  of  persons  with  him." 
"  Servants,  obey  in  all  things  your  masters  according  to 
the  flesh."  "  Let  as  many  servants  as  are  under  the 
yoke  count  their  own  masters  worthy  of  all  honour." 
The  temptations  of  power  should  be  diligently  pointed 
out,  passion  repressed,  purity  enforced,  and  then  the 
young  Southerner  will  rise  like  the  sun  over  the  wide 
sphere  of  his  duty,  diffusing  light  and  warmth  around 
him.  As  Mentor  dwelt  with  eloquence  on  the  expected 
legislation  of  Telemachus,  so  should  every  father  prepare 
his  son,  at  the  South,  for  the  little  kingdom  over  which 
he  is  to  reign  in  wisdom  and  love. 

It  would  seem,  at  the  first  glance,  that  one  of  the  most 
difficult  offices  of  the  planter  would  be  to  restrain  the  V 
tempers  of  the  uneducated  beings  under  his  care  ;  but 
daily  occupation  and  systematic  routine  are  favourable  to 
harmony,  and  God  has  seemed  wonderfully  to  have  bal-  j 
anced  human  passions.  There  are  few  Zelucos  among 
fathers.  The  subject  of  surprise  is,  the  escape  of  so 
many  from  injury,  under  the  hand  of  passion,  in  all  com- 
munities. Who  has  not  seen  a  mother  of  the  labouring 
classes  shake  a  child  with  her  strong  arm,  until  one 
would  suppose  dislocation  would  follow,  and  the  child 
come  out  from  the  operation  rather  strengthened,  as  from 
a  Calisthenic  exercise  1  How  many  shoes,  aimed  at  the 
head  of  a  culprit,  have  missed  their  destination !  It  is 
curious  to  observe  how  seldom  they  hit.  As  far  as  I 
have  observed,  the  poorer  classes  in  New-England  shake 
their  children  in  a  sudden  impulse  of  anger ;  while  ne- 
groes throw  something  at  theirs.  There  is  that  which  is 
tremendously  exciting  in  a  shake — the  chatter  of  one's 
teeth,  the  impotence  of  one's  nerves  and  sinews,  and  the 
trill  of  the  voice  as  one  begs  pardon.     I  would  rather,  of 


204  RECOLLECTIONS   OP  A 

the  two,  run  my  chance  of  a  missile,  and  take  to  dodging, 
if  I  were  a  child. 
/  How  difficult  is  it  for  us,  who  have  time  to  reason 
J  with  children,  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of  parents  hurried 
^by  a  thousand  cares.  The  poor  mother,  standing  at  her 
wash-tub,  burning  over  the  fire,  or  delving  at  her  needle, 
must  be  summary  in  her  punishments,  and  the  little  rebel 
takes  advantage  of  her  limited  minutes.  Even  the  dark 
closet,  the  resort  of  leisurely  people,  consumes  too  much 
time  for  her;  and  when  she  thinks  her  urchin  is  well 
seated  on  a  bench  in  the  coiner,  to  which  he  has  been 
banished,  he  has  slipped  off  and  gone  to  some  new  ex- 
periment. The  poor  soul  can  neither  stay  to  administer 
a  dose  of  castor  oil,  as  one  of  my  friends  does,  for  bad 
temper,  nor  apply  a  cold  bath,  nor  bind  a  strip  of  paper 
on  the  forehead,  with  the  offence  designated,  nor  con- 
demn the  child  to  the  bed  all  day — an  admirable  pre- 
scription, by-the-way,  for  those  who  sleep  too  late  in  the 
morning.  These  are  all  ^punishments  nf  leisure,  and  the 
labourer  cannot  exercise  them.  Is  it  not  wonderful,  then, 
that,  as  correction  is  necessarily  so  brief,  it  is  not  often 
more  calamitous !  Scientific  discipline  has  adopted  the 
cat-o'-nine-tails  and  the  ferula,  so  that  the  operation  can 
be  carried  on  without  maiming  ;  but  the  poor  woman 
cannot  deliberately  apply  even  these.  She  must  take 
the  first  tangible  thing,  and,  luckily,  the  natural  imple- 
ment is  her  own  hand  ;  luckily,  too,  that  very  hand  rel- 
ishes not  a  too  potent  tingling,  or  too  dislocating  a  shake, 
and  the  child  is  safe.  But  while  I  have  been  throwing 
off  these  rambling  thoughts,  my  little  Clarence  has  been 
fishing  my  best  cap  from  a  bandbox ;  and,  as  he  swings 
it  on  his  hook,  his  Lilliputian  waiting-man  follows  him, 
crying,  "  Buy  fish,  missis  1  buy  any  fish  V  Shall  I  use 
my  natural  implement  on  the  rogue  1 

My  personal  experience  supplies  me  with  but  one  ex- 
ample of  passion  leading  to  fatal  consequences  in  our 
own  neighbourhood,  but  it  was  a  most  aggravated  case, 
and  related  to  Bella,  the  deaf  and  dumb  girl,  and  to  her 
mother,  the  Zeluco  of  my  story.  I  have  never  seen  any. 
thing  more  affecting  than  Bella's  attachment  to  her  infant. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  205 

It  was  one  of  God's  holy  compensations  for  infirm  human 
nature  ;  she  felt  no  want  with  her  babe  in  her  arms  ;  and 
language — oh !  the  language  between  these  two  crea- 
tures— the  twining  of  arms,  the  gaze  of  the  eyes,  the 
pressure  of  the  lips  ;  and,  when  any  attempt  was  made 
to  take  the  child  from  her,  how  that  strange  howl  thrilled 
the  soul !  She  was  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  her  du- 
ties ;  the  family  at  the  Elms  treated  her  with  peculiar 
tenderness,  and  the  child  was  the  pet  of  the  household. 
But  her  passions,  like  those  of  most  mutes,  were  violent, 
and  her  mother,  so  far  from  pitying,  treated  her  with  bru- 
tality. One  day  when  I  was  visiting  at  the  Elms,  we 
heard  a  cry  wilder  than  I  had  ever  known  from  poor 
Bella.  Her  mother  had  attacked  her  in  anger,  and  lev- 
elled a  blow  with  a  stick  of  wood,  which  laid  her  and 
her  infant  on  the  ground.  In  a  week  that  smiling  baby 
was  a  corpse  by  Bella's  side,  and  she  was  fast  journey- 
ing to  the  same  sad  bourn.  Even  in  death  she  could 
not  let  her  baby  go,  and  her  wild  cry  sounded  fierce  and 
long  when  any  one  attempted  to  remove  it.  It  was  laid 
in  its  shroud  by  her  side  ;  she  felt  its  little  forehead  and 
cold  hands,  and  moaned  over  its  unmoved  lips.  Poor 
Bella  was  tenderly  cared  for  by  her  mistress,  and  her 
pious  coloured  friends  stood  around  her  and  pointed  up- 
ward, as  if  to  God.  She  shook  her  head,  and  clung  to 
her  dead  infant.  It  was  forced  from  her,  and  placed  in 
its  humble  coffin  and  peaceful  grave,  and  two  days  after 
Bella  was  laid  by  its  side.  It  is  a  sad,  though  humble 
story.  I  have  long  since  laid  it  to  my  heart ;  and,  when 
passion  has  threatened  to  shake  me  in  my  intercourse 
with  those  around  me,  the  image  of  that  wrathful  mother, 
though  comparatively  irresponsible,  has  arisen  to  my 
view,  darkly  pointing  at  Bella's  grave. 


Little  that  was  interesting  occurred  at  this  time  at 
Roseland ;  but  one  incident  may  show  a  feature  of  our 
life.  We  shall  not  long  have  such  to  record,  for  the  In- 
dian race,  like  the  noble  trees  of  our  forests,  are  disap- 
pearing— the  axe  is  laid  at  their  roots.  As  I  was  play- 
ing the  piano  one  morning,  I  heard  a  light  footstep ;  and, 
S 


S06  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 

turning  round,  saw  an  Indian  in  full  costume,  standing, 
with  folded  arms,  against  the  entrance  of  the  door,  his 
eyes  bent  directly  on  me.  I  was  so  startled  that  I  could 
not  proceed  in  singing.  I  made  two  or  three  ineffectual 
attempts,  and  then  preferred  passing  out  of  the  room 
close  to  him  rather  than  remain.  As  I  rose  from  the 
instrument  his  eyes  followed  me,  though  his  attitude  was 
unchanged,  and  he  made  a  gesture  for  me  to  return  and 
play.  I  went  to  mamma,  who  decided  that  I  must  do  so. 
She,  like  most  Southern  ladies,  had  no  unnecessary  fears. 
She  was  in  the  habit  of  passing  months  with  her  chil- 
dren on  the  plantation,  without  any  other  protection  than 
her  servants.  The  Indian  had  remained  in  the  same 
erect  attitude,  as  if  he  expected  our  return ;  and,  as 
mamma  bowed  in  passing,  he  returned  her  salutation.  I 
sat  down  and  played  several  tunes,  glancing  occasionally 
at  him  ;  his  eyes  were  still  fixed  on  me.  At  length,  as  I 
passed,  he  uttered  a  sound  like  "  thank"  and  retired  as 
silently  as  he  came.  I  have  never  since  seen  so  perfect 
and  interesting  a  specimen  of  his  race.  There  was  some- 
thing inexpressibly  lofty  and  graceful  in  his  air. 

On  our  next  visit  to  the  city,  Flora  asked  me,  with 
almost  apparent  blushes,  "  if  she  could  take  a  partner  ;" 
and  I  was  made  to  understand  that  Kit,  a  stevedore,  had 
solicited  her  hand.  Of  course  I  could  make  no  objection, 
though  losing  some  valuable  services  by  the  plan ;  and 
preparations  were  made  for  the  wedding,  which  she  chose 
to  have  performed  in  the  wash-kitchen  instead  of  our  par- 
lour. The  floor  was  nicely  scrubbed,  seats  placed  around, 
and  the  tin  candlesticks  on  the  wall  ornamented  with 
sprigs  of  green.  When  all  was  ready  we  were  invited 
out  with  the  clergyman,  who,  as  usual,  was  chosen  by  the 
bride.  The  room  was  lined  with  guests.  As  we  entered 
the  bride  and  groom  rose,  attended  by  six  groomsmen 
and  six  bridemaids,  the  latter  dressed  in  white,  with 
flowers,  riband,  or  tarnished  silver  and  gold  sprigs  in 
their  hair.  The  minister  proceeded  in  the  ceremony, 
and  at  length  told  them  to  join  their  right  hands.  The 
handmaidens  were  pretty  expert  in  drawing  off  Flora's 
glove,  as  her  bands  were  soft  as  mine ;  but  Kit  was  the 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  207 

very  image  of  helplessness.  He  looked  as  if  he  longed 
to  give  the  glove  (it  was  clinging  white  cotton)  a  pull,  but 
etiquette  forbade.  His  arm  was  extended,  and  his  palm 
open,  in  a  kind  of  spasmodic  motion,  as  the  head  grooms- 
man tugged  at  the  forefinger.  By  degrees  his  aids  came 
up,  until  there  was  one  at  each  digit,  while  a  sixth  direct- 
ed ;  but,  the  more  they  pulled,  the  more  the  glove  "  would 
not  stay  pulled."  The  bridemaids  began  to  titter,  and 
Flora,  losing  her  patience,  said,  "  Pull  it  off  yourself, 
Kit ;"  but  the  superintendent  of  the  ceremony  waved  her 
off  solemnly,  and,  after  picking  a  while  upon  the  thumb 
and  fingers,  the  tenacious  glove  yielded,  and  by  "  a  long 
pull,  a  strong  pull,  and  a  pull  all  together,"  Kit's  brawny 
hand  was  laid  bare,  and  grasped  that  of  the  more  delicate 
Flora.  The  ceremony  proceeded  without  further  imped- 
iment, and,  shaking  hands  with  the  bride,  we  returned  to 
the  house.  As  we  left  the  threshold  of  the  wash-room, 
the  whole  party  shouted  forth  a  Methodist  hymn.  It  was 
a  solemn  and  affecting  sound,  and  I  felt  it  to  be  a  rebuke 
to  the  vapid  jests  that  so  often  circulate  after  more  impo- 
sing ceremonials.  Wine  and  cake  were  sent  us  immedi- 
ately after,  and  a  whole  iced  cake  presented  to  the  min- 
ister the  following  day,  according  to  the  usual  custom 
among  the  coloured  people  in  the  city.  Mamma  and  I  "1 
were  introduced  to  the  bride's  chamber,  which  was  neatly  f 
set  off  with  white  curtains  and  toilet  cover.  I  have  j 
sometimes  seen  the  apartments  of  coloured  brides  deco- 
rated with  evergreens. 


208  RECOLLECTIONS   OF   A 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


THE    DEER    HUNT. 

"  Hark !  from  yon  covert  where  those  towering  oaks 
Above  the  humble  copse  aspiring  rise, 
What  glorious  triumphs  burst  in  every  gale 
Upon  our  ravish'd  ears  !     The  hunters  shout, 
The  clanging  horns  swell  their  sweet  winding  notes. 
The  pack  wide  opening  load  the  trembling  air 
"With  various  melody ;  from  tree  to  tree 
The  propagated  cry  redoubling  bounds, 
And  wing'd  zephyrs  waft  the  floating  joy 
Through  all  the  regions  near !'' 

The  Chase. 

Winter  in  Carolina  comes  with  no  stern  aspect ;  she 
loves  the  merry  dance  by  the  lightwood  knots  thrown  on 
the  spacious  hearth,  and  sunny  nature  woos  us  from 
without,  where  flowers  scarcely  blighted  and  the  hunts- 
man's horn  are  kindly  substitutes  for  glittering  frost- 
work and  noisy  sleigh-bells.  Often,  in  childhood,  when 
I  had  heard  the  stir  and  preparation  for  the  chase,  I  had 
longed  to  take  a  pj»t ;  and  when,  on  a  bright  winter  morn- 
ing, I  saw  parties  move  off,  I  was  almost  tempted  to 
spring  on  my  own  good  steed,  and  follow  through  the 
avenue.  As  I  advanced  in  years,  and  felt  perfect  confi- 
dence in  my  own  skill  in  horsemanship,  I  frequently 
urged  papa  to  allow  me  to  accompany  him ;  but  he  ob- 
jected on  the  score  of  the  dangerous  character  of  our 
woods  for  one  in  female  attire  on  horseback.  In  the 
holydays  of  this  season,  Bell  Wilson  (who,  by-the-way, 
had  attained  the  rare  accomplishment  of  being  able  to 
discharge  a  fowling-piece)  and  I  rallied  our  forces  for 
a  last  attack,  and  one  evening,  seconded  by  my  brothers 
and  Marion,  we  succeeded  in  obtaining  an  unwilling  con- 
sent from  papa  to  accompany  his  party  the  following  day. 

Jim,  who  was,  in  his  way,  the  soul  of  the  hunting  enter- 
prises at  Roseland,  awoke  us  early,  and  we  soon  heard 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  209 

papa's  horn  on  the  piazza,  the  notes  of  which  were  an- 
swered by  the  joyful  tongues  of  the  beagles,  and  by  the 
horns  of  the  neighbouring  sportsmen. 

We  ran  down  to  breakfast,  scarcely  able  to  eat  from 
the  excitement  of  the  scene,  as  my  brothers  and  our 
friends  came  in  equipped  for  the  hunt.  The  usual  dress 
of  a  hunter  is  composed  of  a  cap,  a  frockcoat,  reaching 
half  way  between  the  hips  and  the  knees,  with  breast- 
pockets for  carrying  ammunition,  &c,  boots,  spurs,  and 
blowing-horn.  This  last  appendage  is  suspended  from 
the  right  shoulder,  the  horn  itself  hanging  under  the  left 
arm.  But  dress  is  altogether  a  matter  of  fancy,  and 
comical  indeed  are  some  of  the  figures  which  sally  forth 
to  enjoy  the  sport  of  the  woods. 

The  first  person  who  entered  was  our  neighbour,  Mr. 
Plumer,  an  eccentric  but  intelligent  man,  tall,  exces- 
sively thin,  and  sharp-visaged,  his  spare  legs  being  in- 
serted in  military  boots  to  protect  him  from  the  mud  of 
the  swamps.     He  addressed  us  with  his  usual  joke  of, 

"  Good-morning,  young  ladies.  You  see  I  prefer 
hunting  a  deer  to  hunting  a  dear.      Ha — ha — ha  !" 

Next  came  Mr.  Prentiss,  a  real  townsman,  with  spat- 
terdashes, his  hat  on  one  side  of  his  head,  a  fresh  cravat, 
and  his  white  shirt-cuffs  in  full  sight  over  his  Limerick 
gloves.  Then  followed  Dick  Bradford,  his  broadcloth 
leggins  fastened  from  the  ankle  to  the  knee  with  gilt  but- 
tons, accompanied  by  Captain  Rogerson,  with  woollen 
ones  tied  above  the  knee  and  around  the  ankle  with  flan- 
nel list.  Marion  and  my  brothers  wore  their  usual  plan- 
tation dress,  with  hunting-coat  and  cap.  They  threw  a 
horn  round  Bell's  neck  and  mine,  exacting  the  promise 
that  we  should  not  use  them. 

Mr.  Plumer,  whistling  to  his  dogs,  and  blowing  his 
horn,  galloped  off  to  secure  the  best  stand.  Papa  fol- 
lowed, attended  by  Jim  calling  his  hounds,  and  sounding 
his  horn  to  announce  to  the  sportsmen  that  he  was 
under  way.  The  gentlemen  followed,  leaving  Bell  and 
me  with  Richard  and  Marion. 

Collected  at  the  ground,  the  hunt  was  arranged.     Mr. 
Plumer,  counting  our  forces,  exclaimed, 
S  2 


210  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 

"  Let  me  see,  six  of  us  without  Marion  and  Richard, 
who  are  ladies'  men — very  good — very  good  ;  more  than 
that  mars  the  sport — mars  the  sport.  They  must  mind 
the  dears,  while  we  hunt  the  deers,  ha — ha — ha  !" 

The  boys*  were  directed  how  to  drive.  They  were 
to  commence  by  driving  the  swamp,  the  gentlemen  and 
ourselves  taking  up  our  stand  at  the  head  of  the  swamp, 
while  they  were  to  put  in  below,  and  drive  through  to  us. 
If  the  dogs  started  and  ran  back,  the  boys  were  to  stop 
them ;  but  if  they  ran  to  the  head  of  the  swamp,  they 
were  to  scream  behind  them,  and  force  the  deer  out  to 
the  standers.  We  accordingly  proceeded  to  the  head  of 
the  swamp,  and  took  our  stands  every  one  at  his  post. 
The  boys  then  commenced  driving  by  whooping  and  ri- 
ding about  in  the  swamp,  every  now  and  then  speaking  to 
and  encouraging  the  dogs.  It  was  wonderful  to  me  to  see 
the  sympathy  of  the  hounds,  their  diligence  and  docility. 
After  driving  about  for  some  time,  Bounce,  a  cold-nose 
dog,  struck  a  trail,  while  the  boys  encouraged  him,  rode 
to  him,  brushed  through  the  briers  and  bushes,  occasion- 
ally shouting  and  clapping  their  hands  to  stimulate  the 
industrious  animal.  After  working  cold  scent  a  while, 
Bounce  was  joined  by  Diamond,  Ringwood,  Music,  Dash, 
Killbuck,  Rock,  Luna,  and  Trimbush,  who  alternately 
dropped  in,  working  the  trail  of  an  old  buck  into  the 
drive.  And  now  a  chorus  of  music  burst  forth  from  the 
anxious  pack,  which  momentarily  expected  the  jump  of 
the  deer,  while  the  boys  continued  encouraging  and 
urging  them  on. 

Presently  up  bounced  the  old  buck,  the  dogs  burst 
forth  into  full  cry,  the  boys  shouting,  "  Mind,  mind 
ahead !"  to  apprize  the  sportsmen  that  the  deer  was  up 
and  coming.  The  hunters  then,  every  man  at  his  stand, 
drew  themselves  up  to  a  point  behind  some  large  tree  or 
bush,  waiting  with  breathless  anxiety  the  approach  of  the 
deer.  The  dogs  came  bearing  down  to  us,  roaring  it  in 
the  swamp,  giving  their  tongues  at  every  jump.  Pres- 
ently the  old  buck  broke  cover,  and  came  dashing  by 

*  Common  epithet  for  negro  men. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  211 

John  with  the  speed  of  lightning.  My  heart  leaped  to 
■my  mouth.  John  sprang  forward,  raised  his  gun,  took 
his  aim,  and  blazed  away  both  barrels  one  after  the  other. 
The  old  buck  faltered  a  moment,  but  kept  his  course. 
My  sympathies  were  stirred  for  the  noble  animal,  and,  as 
I  saw  him  bound  on,  I  uttered  a  shout  of  joy.  The  dogs 
came  dashing  after  in  full  cry,  and  were  with  difficulty 
stopped  by  John,  who  blew  his  horn  and  collected  the 
party  ;  each  man  came  galloping  up  to  the  post  with  the 
eager  questions, 

"  Is  he  shot  ?     What  have  you  done  V 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  John  ;  "  I  think  I  hit  him.  I  am 
sure  I  saw  him  flounder  at  my  last  barrel ;  let  us  look 
for  blood.  Give  me  time  to  reload,  and  if  there  is  blood 
we  will  hustle  him." 

By  this  time  Jim,  who  came  first  after  the  dogs,  had 
dismounted,  and  was  walking  on  the  track  of  the  deer 
looking  for  blood. 

"  Here  blood,  Mans  John,  for  true,"  said  Jim,  dashing 
away  the  brushwood,  and  grinning  from  ear  to  ear ; 
"  but  he  an't  too  much."* 

John  having  reloaded,  the  boys  were  ordered  to  stick 
close  to  the  dogs,  and  if  they  jumped  the  buck,  to  catch 
him,  knowing  that,  if  badly  wounded,  he  would  not  run 
far  before  lying  down.  The  hunters  then  screamed  to 
the  hounds,  who  broke  off  in  full  cry,  while  we  followed 
in  the  chase.  I  strained  my  sight  onward,  and  again 
my  sympathetic  joy  was  roused  as  the  deer  once  more, 
apparently  unhurt,  disappeared  in  the  swamp.  Our  bro- 
ken forces  were  now  rearranged.  Marion,  Richard, 
Bell,  and  I  were  stationed  in  a  cross-road  leading  from 
the  swamp,  where  the  boys,  having  galloped  round,  had 
again  commenced  driving.  Mr.  Plumer  was  at  the 
next  stand  higher  up  the  road,  the  others  nearer  the 
swamp,  but  all  in  sight  of  each  other.  We  had  not 
waited  long  when  we  heard  once  more  the  hounds  bear- 
ing down  in  full  cry  directly  towards  our  stand. 

"  What  music  !  what  music !"  cried  Marion,  in  rap- 
tures, as  the  pack  set  up  a  renewed  yell. 

*  This  in  negro  dialect  means  there  is  very  Uttle. 


212  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

I  could  not  but  smile  as  I  remembered  the  remark  of  a 
city  gentleman,  who  once  said,  "  Where  is  the  music ! 
I  hear  nothing  but  the  barking  of  dogs."  The  deer  con- 
tinued to  approach,  and  now  we  heard  the  crackling  of 
the  bushes,  and  now  the  fine  creature  sprang  in  sight ; 
but  as  he  came  within  gun-shot  of  John,  he  turned  and 
took  the  direction  of  the  stand  at  which  Mr.  Prentiss 
was  stationed,  when  lo,  quick  as  thought,  we  saw  him 
on  the  other  side  of  Mr.  Plumer,  having  escaped  the 
shots,  and  come  out  considerably  beyond  the  road. 

"  On,"  shouted  Marion  to  the  hunters  ;  "  if  the  old  buck 
gets  to  the  creek  we  lose  him." 

Mr.  Plumer  had  already  dashed  on,  as  if  for  life,  and 
we  followed  up  the  road.  The  hounds  then  came  out  in 
the  distance,  followed  by  the  drivers  in  a  complete  Gil- 
pin race,  whooping  and  screaming  ;  two  were  on  mules, 
the  rest  on  horses.  One  had  dropped  his  red  cap,  an- 
other his  venison-bag. 

"  There  goes  Jim's  luncheon,"  said  Richard,  as  some- 
thing else  was  seen  to  fall  ;  "  that  fellow  never  stirs 
without  his  hoe-cake." 

"  Young  ladies,"  exclaimed  Marion,  whose  whole  soul 
yearned  for  the  chase,  though  comparatively  restrained 
by  our  presence,  "  you  must  canter  briskly,  or  we  shall 
lose  the  sport."  And  as  he  said  this,  Richard  and  Bell 
turned  into  a  cross-road. 

Unfortunately,  as  I  loosed  my  rein,  I  touched  the  horse 
with  my  whip.  I  had  been  warned  that  he  was  an  old 
hunter,  but  forgot  it,  until  he  sprang  forward  and  left 
everything  behind.  I  had  sufficient  presence  of  mind 
to  guide  him  aright,  and,  obedient  to  the  rein,  he  kept  the 
road.  The  sound  of  approaching  hoofs  made  him  quick- 
en his  speed  ;  he  appeared  to  fly,  and  I  became  giddy 
with  the  wild  dread  of  consequences  ;  but  Marion  was 
soon  by  my  side,  seizing  the  bridle,  panting,  and  crying, 
"  Hold  fast,  Miss  Wilton,  hold  fast !  We  will  stop 
gradually.  I  knew  my  horse  had  the  speed  of  yours. 
Be  firm,  be  firm." 

We  rode  on  at.  a  furious  rate  some  short  distance 
before  he  succeeded  in    stopping    the    excited    animal. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  213 

When  this  was  effected,  he  assisted  me  to  dismount,  and 
exchanged  his  gentler  though  spirited  steed  for  mine. 
In  the  midst  of  this  little  transaction  I  perceived  that  the 
sport  was  forgotten.  His  eye  was  bent  on  me  with 
such  an  air  of  perplexed  attention  that,  blushing  and  agi- 
tated, I  shrank  from  his  gaze.  He  glanced  at  the  ring 
•on  his  finger,  then  again  at  me  ;  some  associations 
seemed  rushing  through  his  mind,  and  lent  a  melting 
brightness  to  the  half  smile  that  played  upon  his  lips,  while 
■f,  with  the  most  awkward  consciousness,  urged  on  my 
palfrey.     He  seized  the  bridle. 

"  Stop,  Miss  Wilton,"  he  exclaimed,  eagerly.  "  One 
word  before  you  go.  It  must  be  so.  I  feel  an  intuition 
of  the  truth.  Withdraw  not  your  hand  until  I  try  this 
precious  ring  on  your  finger.  Oh,  stay,  dearest  Corne- 
lia," he  continued,  as,  conscious  and  embarrassed,  I  hesi- 
tated for  a  reply.  My  hand  was  in  his,  the  ring  sparkled 
in  the  sun  ;  but  before  he  could  measure  its  little  circlet 
Richard  and  Bell  rode  up  briskly,  calling  out, 

"  The  deer  has  been  turned,  we  hear  the  dogs  coming 
this  way." 

"  Oh,  let  him  go,  pray,  let  him  go,"  I  exclaimed  ;  "  he 
has  won  his  life.     I  cannot  bear  to  have  him  killed." 

"  Perhaps  he  will  turn  to  the  river,"  said  Bell  ;  "  it 
is  on  our  way,  and  we  will  see  him  foil  these  mighty 
Nimrods." 

We  cantered  on,  the  dogs  apparently  not  far  distant. 
On  turning  into  the  public  road  we  beheld  the  deer  com- 
ing directly  towards  us.  Marion  and  Richard  reined 
up,  and  raised  their  guns,  but  Bell  and  I  screamed, 
"  Don't  shoot,  for  mercy's  sake,  don't  shoot!"  and  they 
reluctantly  lowered  them.  The  deer,  thus  pressed  by 
ourselves  in  front  and  by  the  hunters  and  dogs  in  pur- 
suit, stood  still,  looked  about  him,  and  seemed  to  hesi- 
tate for  an  instant.  How  beautiful,  how  majestic  his  ap- 
pearance in  that  attitude  of  reflection  !  Turning  sud- 
denly, he  bounded  over  the  fence  into  papa's  oakery,  and, 
quick  as  thought,  made  his  way  towards  the  river.  Baf- 
fled in  their  aim,  the  hunters  swept  round  to  endeavour 
to  arrest  him  at  the  lower  entrance,  while  we  auickW  en- 


214  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 

tered  a  private  and  shorter  access.  Crossing  a  field  to 
the  yard  and  garden,  we  reached  the  river's  edge,  which 
bordered  it,  just  as  the  deer,  swimming  for  life,  was  ma- 
king his  way  across  the  current.  The  dogs  rushed  on, 
the  hunters  firing  ineffectual  shots  in  the  distance,  while 
Bell  and  I,  beneath  a  sycamore,  waved  our  handkerchiefs 
in  triumph,  and  shouted  our  congratulations  as  the  noble 
animal  sprang,  apparently  unhurt,  from  the  water,  and 
was  lost  in  the  thickets  on  the  opposite  bank. 

"  Not  scathed,  by  George,"  said  papa ;  "  not  grazed 
by  a  single  shot ;  he  has  won  his  life  nobly !" 

"  Look  at  Diamond  and  Trimbush,"  cried  mamma, 
running  from  the  house  down  the  garden-path,  in  an  ag- 
ony of  trepidation,  as  the  dogs  came  back,  wet  and  whim- 
pering, from  their  ineffectual  chase  ;  "  they  are  trampling 
my  carnations,  and  Luna  is  making  a  bed  of  the  wall- 
flowers." 

Our  attention  was  drawn  away  by  Jim,  who  advanced 
with  the  boys,  and  whose  appearance,  now  that  the  ex- 
citement was  over,  made  us  shout  with  laughter.  He 
was  half  as  large  again  as  usual,  with  white  cotton  ooz- 
ing out  of  divers  apertures  in  his  dress,  and  the  tail  ol 
his  fox-skin  cap  flapping  up  and  down  as  he  rehearsed, 
with  various  gesticulations,  to  his  companions,  his  share 
of  the  adventures. 

"  Jim,"  exclaimed  Richard,  "  what  a  figure  you  cut." 

"  No  cut  'em,  Maus  Dick,  only  stuff  'em,"  said  Jim, 
looking  complacently  on  his  strange  attire,  while,  taking 
off  his  fox-skin  cap  with  the  pendant  tail,  he  scraped  his 
foot  to  the  company.  "  You  see,  maussa,  you  see,  sir, 
de  brier  bery  bad,  and  I  jist  been  put  one  nudder 
breeches  on  top  o'  tudder,  tie  him  tight  at  he  foot,  and 
stuff  'tween  em  wid  cotton  ;  den  de  brier  just  lick  de 
breeches,  and  an't  hut  me  none  at  all." 

Our  shouts  were  scarcely  over  at  Jim's  statement,  be- 
fore Mr.  Plumer  came  up,  and,  knocking  his  muddy  mili- 
tary boots  against  his  gun,  said  to  me,  "  Ha,  my  dear, 
we've  paid  dear  for  the  deer,  ha — ha — ha !" 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  215 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

AN    ERROR    IN    JUDGMENT. 

"  Sleep  like  a  lover  woo  thee, 
Isabel ! 
And  golden  dreams  come  to  thee 

Like  a  spell."— N.  P.  Willis. 

"  If  thou  remember'st  not  the  slightest  folly 
That  ever  love  did  make  thee  run  into, 
Thou  hast  not  loved." — Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

Marion  had  no  opportunity  for  private  conversation 
With  me  on  the  evening  of  the  hunt,  but  the  excitement 
of  his  feelings  was  obvious  enough  to  the  coolest  eye. 
I  saw  his  gaze  following  me  as  I  moved ;  his  very  si- 
lence, too,  was  a  language,  until,  on  departing,  he  whis- 
pered the  hope  that  I  might  permit  him  to  see  me  the 
morning  following.  Shall  I  describe  my  night  of  tumul- 
tuous waking  thoughts  and  busy  dreams  ?  What  young 
heart  has  not  thus  throbbed  as  the  life-decision  hovered 
near,  when  it  could  count  the  hours  before  the  time  which 
must  decide  its  future  destiny  1  How  hope  colours  up 
that  destiny  until  not  a  shade  is  left  on  its  kindled  hori- 
zon !  Amid  the  glow  of  feeling  on  that  night,  Duncan 
rose  to  my  memory.  I  fancied  I  could  see  the  sweet 
approving  smile  which  had  sometimes  followed  my  girl- 
ish efforts  in  duty  ;  again  I  lingered  in  thought  on  his 
last  looks  and  words,  calling  up  his  rich  monitions,  his 
practical  excellence,  and  realizing  anew,  in  my  love  of 
virtue,  the  touching  truth  that  good  seeds  are  not  planted 
in  vain  in  the  young  heart,  but  spring  up  vigorous  and 
beautiful  in  after  years.  Mingled  with  these  thoughts 
came  \he  sad  pale  form  of  my  Anna  and  her  lost  Lewis  ; 
and  though  my  tears  had  long  since  ceased  to  flow  for 
them,  they  were  still  pictured  to  me  as  dim  stars  strug- 
gling with  tempestuous  clouds.  Amid  these  thoughts 
I  laid  my  head  on  my  pillow,  and  soon  a  brighter  image 


216  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

rose,  and  Marion's  form,  the  model  of  manly  beauty,  was 
before  me,  and  his  eyes,  with  their  soft  sunshine,  beamed 
on  me,  and  his  voice  uttered  its  words  of  "  truth  and  so- 
berness," and  my  heart  seemed  like  a  song  in  its  light- 
ness, and  all  pleasant  things  were  before  me ;  I  .knew 
that  I  loved,  I  felt  that  I  was  beloved  again,  and  so  I  slept. 
How  rich  and  bright  was  that  following  morning  ! — 
there  was  gladness  in  everything.  The  birds  fancied 
that  young  spring  had  come ;  and,  as  one  of  our  native 
poets  has  beautifully  sung, 

"  In  russet  coat 
Most  homely,  like  true  genius  bursting  forth 
In  spite  of  adverse  fortune,  a  full  choir 
Within  himself,  the  merry  mock-bird  sate, 
Filling  the  air  with  melody — and,  at  times, 
In  the  rapt  fervour  of  his  sweetest  song, 
His  quivering  form  up-sprang  into  the  sky 
In  spiral  circles,  as  if  he  would  catch 
New  powers  from  kindred  warblers  in  the  clouds." 

The  sun  lay  in  a  yellow  glow  on  the  earth,  where  a 
few  blades  still  struggled  with  wintry  frosts,  while  the 
roses,  crisp  and  mottled  like  a  bright  girl's  winter  cheek, 
sparkled  in  the  dew.  And  the  toilet  of  that  morning, 
why  was  it  so  agitated  and  yet  so  lingering  1  Why  did 
my  half-combed  hair  hang  in  its  waves,  while  I,  forget- 
ful of  its  braids,  looked  but  on  sky  and  field,  and  knew  not 
that  I  looked  ]  Why  did  I  clasp  my  hands  upon  my 
heart  as  if  to  sooth  its  tumult,  and  yet  garner  up  thoughts 
that  set  its  full  tide  flowing  1  Why  did  the  riband  that 
Marion  had  praised  seem  like  a  relic,  while  the  sigh  that 
rose  over  a  faded  flower  which  he  had  given  me  was  as 
warm  as  the  devotee's  in  her  most  rapt  devotion  1  Oh, 
gentle  genius  of  youthful  love,  floating  in  clouds  of  light 
and  beauty  around  the  trusting  heart,  thou  canst  tell ! 

Let  me  receive  all  praise  that  I  committed  none  of  the 
alleged  crimes  of  lovers  at  the  breakfast-table.  No 
spilled  coffee  can  be  laid  to  my  charge.  I  did  not  put 
butter  instead  of  sugar  into  papa's  tea,  or  say  yes,  madam, 
when  I  should  have  said  no,  sir.  Having  a  little  of  the 
pride  of  good  sense,  I  did  not  depart  from  social  useful- 
ness, but  assisted  mamma  in  washing  the  cups,  brushed 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  217 

papa's  hat,  arranged  the  flowers,  and  went  through  my 
little  routine  of  household  duty  without  a  mistake.  At 
length,  all  was  done.  Papa  and  my  brothers  went  out 
on  their  various  errands,  mamma  walked  to  the  river-side 
to  her  dairy,  and  I  was  left  alone.  Then  I  began  to  feel 
an  unwonted  tremour.  I  could  not  read  or  sew  ;  I  shrank 
from  walking  in  the  piazza,  because  there  I  should  first 
see  Marion  ;  I  would  not  go  into  the  garden,  because  it 
would  look  like  avoiding  him.  A  sudden  thought  struck 
me.  With  a  mixed  feeling  of  frolic  and  agitation  I  or- 
dered my  horse  to  be  saddled,  and  ran  up  stairs  to  a  re- 
mote closet,  where  my  riding-dress  and  hat  had  been  ban- 
ished after  my  fall  in  the  ditch.  There  they  were — the 
same  splashes  of  mud  on  the  habit,  the  same  dangling 
black  feathers,  the  same  crushed  wire  and  stiff  veil. 
Dressing  quickly,  I  rang  for  Jim,  whom  I  made  partially 
my  confidant.  All  Jim's  politeness  could  not  prevent 
him  from  laughing  out  at  the  appearance  I  exhibited. 

"  Ki !"  shouted  he  ;  "  Miss  Neely  look  more  worser  dan 
she  did  when  she  tumble  head  over  heel.  De  jacket  too 
leetle,  and  de  sleeve  an't  fetch  to  de  wrist.  Miss  Neely 
been  scare  de  crow  !" 

I  asked  Jim  if  he  was  certain  that  Mr.  Marion  always 
took  the  private  path  across  the  fields  from  our  avenue  ; 
and  having  ascertained  this  fact,  I  threw  a  large  shawl 
over  my  shoulders,  put  a  fresh  veil  above  the  soiled  one, 
mounted  my  horse,  and,  followed  by  Jim,  with  a  beating 
heart  cantered  down  the  avenue. 

Jim  was  very  eloquent  respecting  the  events  of  the  day 
previous,  but  1  scarcely  heard  his  details ;  and  when 
I  had  fairly  reached  the  cross-road  my  mind  misgave  me. 

He  will  think  me  forward  and  bold,  thought  I,  to  come 
and  meet  him  thus  ;  there  is  something  too  farcical  in 
this  attire,  ill  suited  to  maiden  modesty.  And  thinking 
thus,  my  whole  heart  began  to  sink  within  me  at  the  bare 
idea  of  forfeiting  his  esteem  by  indelicacy. 

"  I  must  turn  back,  Jim,"  said  I,  hastily  ;  "  I  feel  faint, 
and  must  go  home." 

"  Wha  fo  you  been  go,  Miss  Neely  ?"  said  he.  "  See 
Maus  Marion  be  here.  He'm  jis  been  tak  de  short  cut 
T 


218  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A 

round  de  corner.  You  no  been  want  for  shee  um!" 
And  he  showed  all  his  teeth  in  laughing  as  he  sur- 
veyed my  dress  again. 

"  Not  for  the  world,  Jim,"  cried  I,  "  would  I  have  him 
see  me.  '  I  shall  die  if  he  does,"  I  continued,  in  uncon- 
trolled agitation — and  turning  my  horse,  I  urged  him  to 
a  gallop. 

If  I  can  only  get  home  one  minute  before  him,  thought 
I,  and  change  my  dress.  And  I  screamed,  "Go  on, 
Jim,  and  open  both  the  gates.  Quick !  quick  !  I  am 
frightened,  I  am  ill !     Oh,  what  a  fool  he  will  think  me !" 

Jim,  frightened  himself  at  my  violence,  readily  obeyed. 

But  the  same  good  steed  with  which  Marion  once  be- 
fore overtook  me  was  speeding  on.  My  head  snapped r 
my  face  was  in  a  blaze,  and,  as  if  to  complete  my  trials, 
the  shawl  and  veil  which  I  had  put  on  loosely  in  order 
to  remove  them  quickly,  caught  in  the  bushes.  I  sprang 
from  the  horse  and  let  him  pass  on,  hoping  that  Marion 
might  pursue  him  while  I  hid  in  the  shrubbery  near  by ; 
alas,  he  had  seen  me  ;  with  the  speed  of  lightning  he 
approached  and  dismounted,  and  1,  foolish  girl  that  I  Was, 
hid  my  face  upon  a  stump  of  a  tree  that  was  near,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

"  Good  heavens  !"  exclaimed  Marion ;  "  what  can  this 
mean  V 

I  could  not  answer,  and  I  was  ashamed  to  look  up. 
He  scarcely  knew  what  to  do — at  length  he  said,  in  a  low 
voice, 

"  This  is  a  singular  vision  !     Can  it  be  Miss  Wilton  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  sobbing.  "  Oh,  it  is  so  silly  !  I  am  so 
ashamed !" 

In  a  moment  he  was  by  my  side,  and  kneeling  there, 
he  laid  aside  my  bonnet,  and  wiped  away  my  tears,  and 
I  did  not  forbid  him. 

"  Fear  not  to  weep  before  me,  dearest,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  the  privilege  of  love  to  wipe  tears — smiles  are  for 
the  crowd  ;  but  you  have  no  need  of  tears,  Cornelia ;  I 
would  rather  see  this,"  (and  he  took  my  soiled  hat  from 
the  ground  and  kissed  it  reverently)  "  than  the  tiara  of  a 
princess." 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  219 

My  hand  lay  in  his ;  he  gently  transferred  the  cher- 
ished ring  to  my  finger,  and  pressed  his  lips  one  moment 
on  its  glittering  surface.  There  was  no  need  of  expla- 
nation ;  heart  whispered  to  heart  its  own  story,  and  so 
thought  Jim  ;  for,  galloping  back  with  my  horse,  he  put  his 
head  among  the  bushes,  and  seeing  the  posture  of  affairs, 
tied  him  to  a  tree,  and  rode  quietly  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


A  DEPARTURE  AND  AN  INTRODUCTION. 

*'  A  mother's  love ! — oh  !  thou  knowest  not  how  much  of  feeling  lies 
In  those  sweet  words  ;  the  hopes,  the  fears,  the  daily  strengthening 

ties ; 
It  lives  ere  yet  the  infant  draws  its  earliest  vital  breath, 
And  dies  but  when  the  mother's  heart  chills  in  the  grasp  of  death." 

Emma  C.  Embury. 

"  Mother,  whatever  griefs  may  fret, 
Cares  entangle,  sins  beset 
This  thy  daughter,  and  with  tears 
Stain  her  cheek,  in  future  years, 
Heavenly  succour  not  denied 
To  the  babe,  whate'er  betide, 
Will  to  the  woman  be  supplied." 

Wordsworth. 

Much  has  been  said  of  the  manoeuvring  of  mothers  to 
obtain  settlements  for  their  daughters ;  but  the  class  is 
infinitely  larger  of  those  parents  who  feel  as  if  their  girls 
were  still  in  childhood,  and  who  wake  up  as  if  from  a 
dream,  on  finding  that  the  beings  who  have  lain  in  their 
bosoms,  and  walked  the  path  of  opening  life,  and  sur- 
rounded the  household  hearth,  and  been  close  as  the  very 
air  they  breathed,  are  suddenly  wrenched  from  them  by  a 
stronger  tie,  the  love  of  years  torn  up  by  the  very  roots, 
and  transplanted  to  a  stranger's  heart. 

Such  was  the  shock  that  mamma  received  in  her  tran- 
quil routine  of  duty.     The  possibility  of  my  belonging  to 


220  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

another  was  like  an  earthquake  to  her.  I  had  been  cher- 
ished like  a  tree  of  her  own  planting,  beneath  which  she 
was  to  repose  ;  it  was  strange  to  her  that  other  hands 
should  gather  its  blossoms  and  fruits.  My  dear  mother  ! 
she  took  me  to  her  arms  and  wept — she  to  whom  tears 
were  so  rare  !  All  that  day  she  drooped  in  her  duties ; 
her  brow  was  thoughtful  ;  she  sighed  often,  and  seemed 
like  one  struggling  with  a  burden.  But  Marion  soon  rec- 
onciled her  to  love's  destiny  by  tender  assiduities,  and 
she  felt  that  she  had  gained  a  son  in  the  partial  loss  of  a 
daughter. 

Papa  was  equally  astonished  at  a  result  which  might 
have  been  foreseen  with  much  less  acuteness  than  he 
possessed  ;  but  the  effect  on  him  was  to  produce  a  volley 
of  jokes,  that  sent  the  blood  rushing  to  my  cheeks,  and 
disconcerted  Marion,  upon  whose  plate,  at  dinner,  mam- 
ma, in  compensatory  kindness,  piled  a  mass  of  food  like 
a  Grecian  hecatomb.  Was  it  wonderful  that  Marion 
should  gain  my  consent  to  escape  from  this  notoriety  to  a 
secluded  tete-a-tele  on  the  evening  of  that  eventful  day, 
where,  unobserved,  the  "  course  of  our  true  love"  might 
be  traced  from  its  first  slight  fountain  of  preference  1 

"  My  mother  must  see  you,  Cornelia,"  said  he.  "I 
feel  like  a  miser  until  I  have  revealed  my  treasure  to  her, 
and  Ellen  too,  and  my  father.  I  thank  Heaven,  dearest, 
that  you  will  be  appreciated  in  my  home  !" 

So  an  early  day  was  appointed  for  a  visit  to  Winna- 
pee,  Mr.  Marion's  plantation,  situated  in  one  of  the  east- 
ern parishes. 

We  left  Roseland  in  a  row-boat  for  the  city,  where  a 
carriage  was  to  meet  us  on  the  following  morning,  to  con- 
duct us  on  our  remaining  way.'  The  followers  of  Co- 
lumbus would  have  been  glad  of  the  provisions  with 
which  mamma  supplied  us  for  this  half  day's  excursion. 
I  cannot  say  much  for  the  animation  of  our  party,  not- 
withstanding Richard  and  John  were  with  us.  A  first 
love,  a  new  joy,  are  serious  :  and  a  tender  and  solemn 
moral  seems  to  spring  from  this  peculiarity  of  the  human 
temperament.  What  philosophy  would  ever  portray  hap- 
piness  with  laughing    eyes   and    dancing   movements  ? 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  22l 

Beautiful  happiness  !  I  own,  a  smile  is  on  her  lip,  but  it 
is  like  the  lining  of  a  sable  cloud  ;  her  eyes  arc  bright, 
but  they  look  forward  to  hope  or  back  on  memory  still ; 
she  shuts  up  her  bosom's  thoughts,  with  a  presentiment 
that  they  may  fly  if  the  door  of  their  cage  is  loosed  ;  her 
foot  treads  carefully  on  the  flowers  at  her  feet,  lest  she 
should  crush  them ;  over  those  very  flowers  a  tear  some- 
times glances  (for  happiness  has  tears),  and  their  petals 
heave  in  the  throbs  of  the  heart,  near  which  they  are  en- 
shrined. 

Alas  for  those  who  are  condemned  to  a  companionship 
with  lovers  !  John  and  Richard  talked  over  their  hunt- 
ing experiences,  discussed  all  the  characters  in  the  par- 
ish, predicted  the  crops,  sang  snatches  of  tunes,  partook 
of  mamma's  dainties,  and  yawned.  As  for  me,  I  saw 
a  transparency  in  the  waters  that  pictured  the  wintry 
boughs  along  the  shore,  lending  them  a  charm  unseen 
before  ;  I  saw  a  purer  blue  in  the  sunny  sky,  and  the 
white  clouds  that  were  reflected  in  the  river  were  like 
rich  pillows  for  reposing  angels  ;  the  couching  birds,  that 
sprang  up  at  the  dash  of  the  oars,  seemed  painted  with 
new  colours,  and  their  flight  was  airy  as  if  they  followed 
the  bidding  of  a  loved  one  ;  the  oarsman's  stroke  dwelt 
on  the  silent  air  like  music  ;  there  was  harmony  in  the 
crackling  bushes,  when,  as  we  neared  the  shore,  some 
startled  animal  bounded  away,  and  all  nature  was  to  me 
like  an  infolding  mantle  of  love  and  tenderness. 

I  had  often  before  this  day  been  sheltered  from  the 
winter  breeze  by  some  kind  hand ;  my  cloak  had  been 
wrapped  around  me  with  equal  care,  and  others  had 
sought  my  eyes  to  know  their  faintest  wishes.  Why, 
then,  was  all  thus  bright  and  fresh  to  my  vision  1  What 
made  the  circumstance  still  more  unaccountable  was, 
that  John  and  Richard  wrapped  themselves  in  their  boat- 
cloaks  and  fell  asleep. 

A  shower  came  on  before  we  reached  town,  but  even 
this  was  not  altogether  to  be  deprecated.  There  were  so 
many  opportunities  to  show  a  kind,  considerate  attention, 
and  to  make  one  feel  as  if  one  was  all  the  world  to  a 
loving  heart ! 

T  2 


222  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

On  the  following  morning  we  proceeded  in  Mr.  Ma- 
rion's carriage.  Vegetation  on  the  Cooper  river  varies 
from  that  on  the  Ashley.  Instead  of  wooded  banks, 
long  tracts  of  land  are  devoted  to  rice-culture.  In  the 
winter  these  appear  dreary  enough,  except  to  the  planter, 
who  sees  a  promise  hidden  to  common  eyes,  and  to  the 
sportsman,  who  detects  game  in  ditches  and  on  banks. 
At  some  seasons  of  the  year  those  immense  fields  are 
very  attractive.  More  extended  than  the  domains  of 
many  a  feudal  baron,  arranged  with  almost  military  order 
and  neatness,  in  spring  the  rich  green  of  the  rice-blades 
lies,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  in  velvet  softness,  while 
in  autumn  its  golden  grains  wave  to  the  winds  beneath 
the  untiring  sunshine. 

My  brothers  were  on  horseback.  There  is  something 
very  animating  in  this  style  of  companionship :  the  sud- 
den gallop  by  the  side  of  the  carriage,  to  tell  a  joke  or 
make  a  remark  on  the  scenery ;  the  picturesque  air  of 
the  riders,  as  they  recede  from  sight  or  check  their  spir- 
ited steeds  to  be  overtaken  ;  the  conscious  air  of  a  horse- 
man, as  he  wields  the  bridle  and  makes  a  graceful  curvet 
— these  things  give  life  and  spirit  to  a  country  drive  ;  and 
my  brothers,  glad  to  be  released  from  the  monotony  of 
the  boat,  added  to  the  interest  by  the  glee  of  unobserved 
retirement.  The  inclemency  of  the  previous  day  was 
followed  by  a  mild  and  balmy  atmosphere,  which,  in  some 
moods  of  physical  temperament,  sends  a  revery  over  the 
soul.  Marion  and  I  glanced  from  subject  to  subject, 
testing  our  new  sympathies  ;  mused  upon  unexpressed 
thoughts  ;  gazed  together  upon  the  woods,  or  traced  the 
Etiwan*  through  their  openings.  How  happy  is  that  in- 
tercourse where  no  obligation  is  felt  to  converse  ;  where 
the  heart  breaks  forth  from  the  lips  in  unfettered  excla- 
mations of  joy  and  tenderness,  then  sinks  back  to  realize 
its  joy,  and  fosters  its  tenderness  in  silence,  and  looks 
again  to  nature  for  sympathy ! 

The  buds  of  a  mild  February  (which  belongs  to  a 
Southern  spring)  were  struggling  with  the  stiffened  leaves 

*  Indian  name  for  Cooper  river. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  223 

• 
of  winter,  which  the  frost  had  tinged,  but  not  severed 
from  their  branches  ;  the  soft  gray  of  the  floating  moss 
prevailed  in  its  hue  over  the  yet  sheathed  foliage,  and  a 
misty  atmosphere,  shading  down  the  sunbeams,  suited 
well  this  sober  livery  of  nature ;  the  scanty  foliage  re- 
vealed the  squirrel  and  the  red-bird,  as  they  sprang  from 
branch  to  branch  ;  the  Etiwan,  playing  like  a  truant  child, 
wound  brightly  in  eccentric  turns,  so  abruptly,  that  the 
shores  often  looked  like  clustering  islands;  the  broad 
rice-fields  lay  ready  for  the  genial  moment  when  the 
planter  should  sow  his  grain,  and  their  trimmed  banks 
spoke  of  agricultural  care ;  the  crows  clustered  in  the 
old  oaks  with  their  social  cawings  ;  the  blackbird  chat- 
tered near,  and  then,  startled  by  our  approach,  swept  off 
like  a  light  cloud  on  the  heavens ;  now  a  solitary  crane 
on  the  marshes  stretched  up  its  long  neck  to  listen,  and 
then,  with  flapping  wings,  soared  away ;  while  the  small 
gray  sparrow,  with  tripping  steps  and  irregular  flight, 
ascended  and  descended  on  the  plains. 

The  course  of  our  journey  brought  us  to  a  ferry. 
There  is  something  infinitely  more  romantic  in  crossing 
a  ferry  than  in  rumbling  over  a  bridge  at  full  speed  ;  and, 
whatever  utilitarians  may  say,  I  cannot  but  enjoy  the  loi- 
tering half  hour  when  the  negroes,  with  lazy  movement, 
ply  the  oar,  while  the  lumbering  boat,  yielding  to  the  cur- 
rent, like  a  good  manceuvrer,  but  to  obtain  the  mastery, 
nears  the  shore.  Yes  ;  let  us  lovers  of  leisure  gaze  up 
and  down  our  placid  streams,  in  thoughts  perchance  list- 
less, perchance  wise,  soothed  by  the  plash  of  the  oar  or 
the  ripple  of  the  wave — and  who  knows  but  we  shall 
gain  as  much  in  the  end  as  they  who  glide  over  space 
like  lightning,  and  before  whom  objects  appear  as  the 
shadow  of  a  flying  bird  in  the  sunshine. 

Feeling  the  necessity  of  refreshment,  we  alighted  for 
a  while  beneath  a  tree  by  the  roadside,  for  a  maroon. 
Wh:le  the  men-servants  spread  a  tablecloth  on  the 
ground,  Flora  withdrew  from  their  concealment  mam- 
ma's cold  fowl  and  ham,  and  the  gentlemen  laid  their 
cloaks  for  seats.  We  were  soon,  despite  of  sentiment, 
reclining  on  them,  with  good  appetites  and  merry  faces  ; 


224  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

the  dogs  wheeled  round  us  in  antic  gambols,  or  looked, 
with  eager  eyes,  at  the  morsels  we  threw  them  ;  the  birds 
hopped  almost  to  where  we  sat ;  the  stealthy  squirrel 
peeped  as  he  climbed  the  neighbouring  tree,  and  the 
changing  lizard  ran  on  the  old  Virginia  fence  unscared. 

The  merry  meal  was  over,  and  we  resumed  our  drive. 
There  are  few  girls,  however  self-possessed  they  may  be, 
who  are  not  somewhat  abashed,  under  circumstances  like 
mine,  with  the  expected  introduction  to  strangers  ;  but  I 
had  prepared  myself  for  the  occasion.  As  we  approached 
the  residence  of  Arthur's  parents,  a  glance  told  me  that 
there  was  a  study  of  elegance  and  form  in  its  proprietors. 
I  sat  unconsciously  more  erect  when  the  gray-headed, 
liveried  porter,  with  a  subdued  welcome,  and  a  bow 
which  would  not  have  dishonoured  Sir  Charles  Grandi- 
son,  held  the  gate  for  us  to  pass  through  to  the  court. 
I  thought,  for  the  first  time,  how  often  I  had  seen  Jim,  in 
an  old  jacket,  displace  the  regular  servant,  and  saunter 
or  rush  to  the  gate  to  admit  visiters,  perhaps  attended  by 
three  or  four  dirty  little  urchins,  while  the  harangue 
which  he  gave  them  on  manners  drew  but  the  more  at- 
tention to  their  dishabille.  I  remembered  how  his  un- 
ceremonious box  on  their  ears  had  sent  them  off  roaring 
with  a  noise  quite  disproportioned  to  their  pain,  and  I 
resolved,  on  my  return,  to  reform  abuses,  and  to  restore 
the  regime  of  my  grandmamma,  who  had  been  a  great 
lover  of  form,  and  who  used  to  say  that  the  affections 
were  never  crushed  by  being  clothed  in  good  manners, 
and  that  respect  for  others  produced  self-respect. 

I  was  soon  folded  in  the  arms  of  Arthur's  family.  If 
anything,  the  embrace  was  too  soft  and  measured ;  too 
much  like  the  porter's  bow,  the  gravelled  walk,  the 
trimmed  shrubbery ;  but  I  afterward  found,  as  grand- 
mamma had  said,  that  this  polish  crushed  no  actual 
warmth  of  the  heart. 

I  retired  quickly  to  dress  for  dinner,  and  found  that 
Flora  had  unfolded  a  new  frock  which  I  had  taken  from 
the  mantuamaker  in  the  city.  I  perceived  that  it  was 
too  showy  for  the  occasion ;  but  it  was  too  late  to  look 
for  another,  and,  to  add  to  my  troubles,  it  did  not  fit ; 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  225 

Flora's  strength  and  skill  were  called  in  requisition  to 
make  it  meet,  and  she  at  length  succeeded.  Fluttered 
and  vexed,  I  heard  the  summons  to  dinner,  and,  pulling 
on  a  pair  of  new  gloves,  descended  to  the  drawing-room, 
where  Ellen  Marion  was  seated  in  the  most  simple  and 
elegant  repose.  I  am  sure  of  the  sympathy  of  my  fe- 
male readers,  who,  whatever  may  be  their  station  in  so- 
ciety, have,  I  doubt  not,  been  over-dressed  at  least  once 
in  their  lives.  Who  can  forget  the  first  pang  at  the  sus- 
picion of  the  fact ;  the  furtive  glance  around  the  com- 
pany, to  ascertain  some  companionship  in  finery  ;  the 
earnest  gaze  at  every  new-comer,  in  hope  that  some  ex- 
tra riband  or  lace  may  be  displayed  ;  and  then  the  set- 
tling down  into  the  conviction  that  one  is  altogether  out 
of  taste,  while  the  blush  that  began  on  the  cheek  spreads 
and  deepens,  till  the  forehead  glows  and  the  fingers 
tingle  I 

Arthur's  father  waited  on  me  to  the  dining-room  (I 
used  to  hate  these  handings-in  when  I  was  a  girl),  and 
seated  me  with  my  back  to  a  blazing  fire.  My  gloves 
were  not  yet  fairly  on,  but  looked  like  extra  joints  at 
every  finger,  and  my  silk  rustled  like  a  patch  of  corn- 
broom  in  a  breeze ;  I  felt  as  if  I  were  all  gloves  and 
silk ;  and  longed  for  our  home  voices  to  break  in  on  the 
soft  and  measured  cadence  of  the  Marions.  I  allowed 
myself  to  be  helped  to  everything  I  did  not  like,  and,  to 
complete  my  despair,  tipped  my  well-filled  plate  into  my 
lap,  where  I  had  neglected  to  lay  a  napkin,  and  was 
obliged  to  have  it  spooned  up  from  my  new  silk.  So 
much  for  first  impressions  on  my  lover's  relations,  and 
so  much  for  my  late  boast  of  self-possession  ! 


226  RECOLLECTIONS    OF  A 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    RETURN. 

"  He  raised  his  veil — the  maid  turn'd  slowly  round — 
Looked  at  him — shriek'd — and  sunk  upon  the  ground." 

Moore's  Veiled  Prophet  of  Khorassan. 

A  change  of  dress,  and  the  delicate  attentions  of  the 
'Marions,  soon  restored  my  self-possession  ;  and  the  reac- 
tion produced  in  me  a  degree  of  vivacity  that  awoke  to 
unaccustomed,  tones  the  Chesterfieldian  echoes  of  Win- 
napee.  A  few  delicious  days  with  Ellen  supplied  to  me 
again  poor  Anna's  loss.  How  quickly  young  thoughts 
leap  to  each  other  !  We  talked  the  long  nights  almost 
through;  topics  growing  as  we  lifted  the  veils  of  our 
hearts,  and  revealed  their  fresh  hopes  and  memories. 
We  had  marked  the  same  passages  in  books  ;  we  pre- 
ferred the  same  songs  ;  we  walked  the  piazza  with  inter- 
lacing arms,  loving  the  same  glow  and  the  same  shade. 
It  was  sweet  to  lavish  on  Ellen  the  treasures  of  ten- 
derness I  dared  not  bestow  on  Arthur ;  to  look  on  her  as 
his  softened  image,  while  I  turned  my  eyes  from  him, 
and  to  hear  her  unwearied  praises  of  his  goodness  and 
beauty,  each  imparting  a  glory  to  the  other. 

"  T  shall  call  you  my  oivn  sister,  soon,"  said  Ellen, 
with  a  whisper  that  sent  a  blush  of  joy  to  my  cheeks,  as 
with  embraces,  such  as  dear  friends  give,  we  parted. 

On  reaching  the  close  of  our  journey,  we  observed  a 
field  adjoining  our  avenue  on  fire  ;  this  common  and  ne- 
cessary occurrence  in  agriculture  at  the  South  did  not 
.  surprise  us  ;  but,  on  entering  the  avenue,  we  were  startled 
^and  terrified  at  finding  the  Cherokee  rose-hedge,  which  in 
winter  is  very  combustible,  in  flames.  I  have  mentioned 
this  hedge,  I  think,  before.  Nothing  in  nature  could  exceed 
its  beauty  when  in  bloom  in  the  month  of  April.  For 
three  miles  the  long  feelers  of  the  vine  lifted  themselves 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  227 

up  or  athwart,  from  five  to  six  feet  in  height  and  breadth  ; 
and  the  eye  knew  not  whether  most  to  admire  the  glossy 
green  of  the  leaves,  or  the  white  blossoms  which  reposed 
on  them  like  wreaths  of  snow.  Here  and  there  its  long 
arms  reached  to  a  neighbouring  tree,  and  seemed  to  revel 
while  infolding  it.  Everywhere  they  stretched  them- 
selves out  like  living  things,  waving  to  catch  support  in 
their  luxuriance.  Amid  this  sheet  of  white,  the  accus- 
tomed sight  could  detect  the  lingering  blossoms  of  the 
yellow  jasmine,  the  opening  scarlet  woodbine,  struggling 
with  its  fair  but  overpowering  rival,  while  the  shrub  hon- 
eysuckle threw  out  its  perfume  beneath,  amid  the  lower 
foliage. 

The  piercing  thorn  of  the  Cherokee  rose  renders  it 
impenetrable  by  cattle  ;  but  it  harbours  reptiles  ;  and  being 
somewhat  unmanageable  in  its  growth,  is  not  a  favourite 
with  the  planter.  No  meie  feeling  of  utility,  however, 
would  induce  papa  to  displace  his,  while  it  extorted  a 
burst  of  admiration  from  every  beholder.  Through  an 
unpardonable  carelessness  in  the  negroes,  they  had  not 
guarded  it  from  the  flames  at  the  two  extremities,  where 
it  had  caught,  and  was  raging  furiously  ;  thus  shutting 
them  out  from  all  hope  of  escape,  except  through  the 
hedge,  which,  in  many  parts,  was  totally  inaccessible. 
We  heard  their  cries  for  help  without  the  power  to  aid 
them.  Fortunately  for  us,  our  plantation  adjoined  an- 
other, the  avenue  of  which  ran  parallel  with  our  own ; 
the  hedge  on  the  left  had  not  yet  thoroughly  caught ;  a 
slight  embankment  separated  the  two,  with  ditches  be- 
tween, and  the  wind  blew  onward,  not  across  the  roadf 
thusagiving  us  comparative  security  in  proceeding.  Ar- 
thur himself,  taking  the  reins,  struck  at  once  into  this  ave- 
nue and  drove  at  full  speed.  The  wind  increased,  while 
the  crackling  and  roaring  sound,  the  flying  cinders,  and 
the  growing  heat,  gave  us  a  new  motive  for  flight.  The 
hope  of  escaping  the  flames  was  soon  more  faint,  for 
Frank,  the  coachman,  cried  out,  "  Fire  ahead,  maussa !" 
Marion  checked  the  horses  ;  it  was  true,  the  flames  were 
about  to  meet  on  the  right-hand  hedge  of  papa's  avenue  ; 
still  the  left  was  but  partially  ignited,  and  the  current  of 


228  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

air  continued  to  blow  from  the  path  we  had  taken.  In 
the  momentary  pause  of  deliberation,  we  heard  a  shriek 
from  the  enclosure  on  the  right.  Merciful  Heaven !  it 
was  Binah's  voice,  raised  to  a  yell  of  horror,  crying — 

"  Help,  help,  God  Almighty  !  help  Binah,  for  Christ's 
sake  !  Help  little  Miss  Patsey  !  We  guine  for  burn  up  ; 
help,  help !" 

Arthur  hesitated  not  a  moment,  but  I  saw  that  he  turned 
deadly  pale. 

"  You  can  remain  here  a  few  minutes  in  safety,"  said 
he  ;  "  the  wind  still  favours  us.  I  will  soon  return." 
And  scarcely  allowing  himself  a  look  at  me,  he  threw 
Frank's  cloak  over  his  head  as  a  protection  against  the 
briers,  leaped  the  ditch,  ascended  the  bank,  with  his 
strong  arm  forced  a  passage  through  the  hedge,  and  dis- 
appeared. 

.1  scarcely  remember  what  next  occurred  ;  but  a  frantic 
violence  took  possession  of  me,  and  I  would  have  fol- 
lowed but  for  Frank's  restraining  arm.  1  watched  the 
flakes  that  rose  and  sailed  off  in  the  distance,  or  caught 
some  neighbouring  tree.  I  saw  the  young  trees  fall,  and 
the  flames  curl  round  the  old ;  the  sound  seemed  like  the 
hissing  of  serpents'  tongues  in  mockery,  and  I  chattered 
and  mocked  at  them  in  return.  Those  moments  seemed 
to  concentrate  ages  of  feeling.  At  length  I  heard  a  voice, 
Arthur's  voice,  calling  for  aid,  but  so  strange  and  unnat- 
ural !  Frank  had  been  industrious  in  making  a  clearance 
through  the  hedge,  whose  top  began  to  burn  in  various 
directions.  We  climbed  the  bank,  sprang  through  and 
found  him.  He  had  rescued  Patsey,  and  protected  her 
with  Frank's  cloak  ;  Binah  had  clung  to  him  as  long  as  life 
lasted  ;  but  there  she  lay,  a  withered  corpse,  while  he 
staggered  forward  and  fell.  I  took  Patsey  in  my  arms  ; 
the  frightened  child  clung  sobbing  to  my  neck,  while 
Frank  bore  Arthur  to  the  carriage.  The  flames  were 
now  around  us,  but  love  and  fear  gave  us  power.  Frank 
drove  furiously.  Poor  Arthur  spoke  not;  blackened  by 
the  smoke,  and  torn  with  briers,  he  lay  helpless  across 
the  seats.  We  were  near  home,  but  the  seconds  seemed 
hours.     I  could  not  caress  my  poor  little  Patsey,  who 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  229 

pressed  her  cheek  to  my  bosom  in  silence,  and  trembled 
like  an  aspen  leaf.  The  rushing  smoke  stifled,  the 
heated  air  oppressed  me  ;  and  the  silence  was  only  inter- 
rupted by  Arthur's  groans.  On  entering  the  court  I 
made  one  more  effort  to  arouse  the  sufferer. 

"  Speak  to  me,  Arthur,"  I  said  ;  "  one  word,  only  one," 
but  his  parched  lips  attempted  utterance  in  vain. 

On  our  arrival  he  was  carried  to  bed,  and  medical  aid 
called  ;  mamma,  in  the  meantime,  prescribing  for  him, 
and  allowing  me  to  sit  by  his  side  with  her.  He  could 
not  bear  a  ray  of  light,  and  I  attended  him  in  darkness. 
Alas,  I  could  not  press  his  dear  hand,  nor  cool  his  brain, 
nor  touch  his  parched  lips  ;  all  was  agony,  burning,  rest- 
less agony. 

Who  has  not  at  some  moments  of  their  lives  felt  wil- 
ling to  lie  down  and  die  for  a  beloved  one  ?  At  such 
periods,  the  grave  has  seemed  a  sweet  bed  of  repose, 
and  death  a  precious  minister  of  love. 

For  many  days  I  saw  not  the  face  of  my  dear  Arthur. 
I  retired  with  mamma  while  the  physicians  dressed  his 
wounds,  and  returned  again  to  sit  by  his  side.  Gradu- 
ally he  began  to  utter  words,  and  called  my  name.  I 
wept  with  joy  at  the  blessed  sound ;  then  one  poor  hand 
could  press  mine  faintly,  and  bear  the  soft  language  I 
reciprocated.  Slowly  the  light  was  admitted,  and  I  saw 
him  ;  but — oh,  my  heart— how  changed  !  The  beauty 
of  which  I  was  so  proud  was  gone  !  The  rich  hair  no 
longer  lay  on  his  noble  brow  ;  and  that  brow,  once  so  se- 
rene, was  furrowed  by  deeper  lines  than  age  or  sorrow 
can  engrave.  I  should  not  have  known  him  !  God  for- 
give me,  but  I  thought  him  hideous.  I  felt  my  blood 
curdle,  and  my  head  swim  with  an  indefinite  terror. 
The  poor  sufferer  did  not  heed  me,  for  his  eyes  were 
closed  to  the  light.  I  thought  my  heart  would  have 
burst,  and  rushed  to  my  own  apartment.  I  traversed  it 
with  rapid  steps  ;  I  crushed  my  hands  upon  my  bosom 
to  stop  its  beatings,  and  pressed  my  forehead  to  the 
wainscot  to  cool  its  burnings.  I  stamped  in  a  kind  of  vin- 
dictive wrath,  and  uttered  words  of  impious  fury.  I  think 
I  was  going  mad,  but  I  grew  faint  ;  slow  tears  came  to 
U 


230  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

me  ;  I  was  not  left  to  blaspheme  ;  I  was  softened  ;  they 
fell  like  rain,  and  my  spiritual  triumph  prevailed. 

What,  I  thought,  is  this  perishing  clay  to  an  immortal  1 
His  frail  beauty  would  at  best  have  lasted  but  a  few 
years.  Who  knows  but  I  should  have  loved  too  fondly 
those  dark  eyes,  whose  intellectual  brightness  struggled 
with  their  mellow  tenderness  ;  that  mouth  chiselled  to 
the  most  perfect  turn  of  manly  symmetry  1  My  poor  Ar- 
thur !  I  have  sometimes  feared  that  your  grasping  intel- 
lect and  exquisite  person  united  placed  you  too  much 
above  me,  that  I  must  worship  you  like  a  bright,  distant 
star ;  it  is  not  so  now.  I  shall  not  fear  to  lay  your 
aching  head  against  my  heart,  to  smooth  the  lingering 
curl  on  your  fevered  brow,  and  call  you  mine  only. 

With  these  thoughts  I  kneeled  in  prayer.  Earth  seemed 
a  vain  thing  to  me  ;  duty  and  Christian  hope  my  birth- 
right. 

"  Arthur,"  said  T,  cheerfully,  as  I  sat  by  his  bedside  a 
week  after,  with  his  hand  in  mine,  parting  the  scanty 
hair  on  his  scarred  forehead,  "  you  are  not  aware  how 
much  you  are  altered  by  this  sad  accident.  You  asked  yes- 
terday for  a  glass,  you  must  be  prepared  for  a  change." 

He  started,  hesitated  a  moment,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
"  I  feared  this.     Can  you  endure  me  V 

"  If  I  had  loved  your  beauty  only,"  I  replied,  "  I  might 
not  have  borne  its  loss  so  well  as  I  do ;  but  while  God 
spares  your  intellect  and  heart,  I  have  still  enough  to  be 
proud  of." 

He  looked  thoughtful,  and  said,  "  Is  it  really  come  to 
this  1  I  have  had  fearful  suspicions  of  it."  His  hand 
shook  in  mine  with  sudden  tremour.  "  I  have  frequently 
desired  to  introduce  the  subject,"  he  continued,  mournfully, 
"  but  had  not  courage.  You  are  not  aware  that  vanity  has 
been  my  besetting  sin.  I  can  recollect  the  earliest  praise 
of  my  beauty.  I  remember  ladies  taking  me  in  their 
arms  when  I  was  a  child,  and  bestowing  on  me  extrava- 
gant expressions  of  endearment  and  praise  ;  I  remember 
my  power  over  young  girls,  who  flattered  me  with  their 
eyes,  when  their  lips  were  too  modest  to  speak ;  my 
quick  ear  has  caught  voices  in  public,  even  of  rude  boys 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  231 

in  the  street,  pronouncing  me  beautiful ;  and,  yes,  I  will 
confess  all,  I  have  lingered  over  my  own  miniature  with 
a  kind  of  idol-worship.  I  struggled  with  this  weakness, 
and  thought  it  mastered ;  God's  will  be  done  if  this  dis- 
pensation is  sent  to  punish  me." 

"  Not  to  punish  you,  Arthur,"  said  I,  fondly,  as  I  per- 
ceived the  nervous  irritability  of  his  feelings,  "  but  it  may 
be  to  try  you,  to  perfect  you,  and  to  reveal  to  you  my 
true  love,  which  asks  for  nothing  in  return  but  yours. 
Oh,  if  you  knew  the  warm  and  brooding  tenderness  that 
has  settled  on  my  heart  since  your  misfortune,  you  too 
would  say,  it  is  enough  for  me,  it  is  worth  more  than  ex- 
ternal charms  can  buy." 

Arthur  improved  in  his  appearance  and  health.  I  kept 
the  mirror  from  him,  telling  him  that  every  day  dimin- 
ished his  disfigurement ;  and  he  cheerfully  assented  to  my 
wishes,  while  his  mind  appeared  to  be  regaining  its  tone. 
"  You  will  be  almost  what  you  were,  dear  Arthur,"  I 
said  to  him  one  day  when  he  began  to  despond  ;  "  indeed, 
I  forget  that  you  are  not  the  same.  Judge  me  by  your- 
self, would  you  look  at  me  with  less  of  true  love's  pref- 
erence, if  I  were  to  be  altered  by  misfortune  ?"  . 

He  shuddered,  and  exclaimed,  "  Do  not  mention  it ;  I 
cannot  bear  to  think  of  it."  (I  repeat  his  language,  not 
with  vanity,  but  to  show  his  intense  love  of  what  he 
thought  beautiful.)  "Let  me  gaze  on  you;"  and  he 
fixed  his  melancholy  eyes  full  on  mine,  "  lest  some  awful 
power  should  change  you.  So  long  as  those  fringed 
orbs  beam  in  their  speaking  sweetness  ;  so  long  as  I  can 
trace  the  rose-tints  on  your  cheeks,  and  the  deep  bril- 
liancy of  your  lips  ;  while  your  braided  hair  lies  thus  in 
its  glossy  folds  ;  while  these  soft  hands  are  white  as  sun- 
tinged  ivory  ;  while  your  step  glides  around  me,  and  I  can 
catch  the  fine  proportions  of  your  modest  form ;  while 
your  voice  falls  in  sweet  modulations  on  my  ears,  stirring 
up  love's  echoes,  I  will  bear  God's  dispensations  on  my- 
self; but,  pray,  pray  that  they  may  stop  before  they 
reach  you." 

Arthur  was  at  length  able  to  walk  a  few  steps,  though 
in  great  weakness,  about  his  apartment.     In  my  earnest- 


232  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

ness  to  assist  him  one  day,  I  forgot  that  he  might  ap- 
proach the  looking-glass  ;  he  did  so  inadvertently,  glanced 
at  himself,  exclaimed,  "  My  God  !"  and  fell  senseless. 

He  was  removed  to  his  bed,  requested  his  room  to  be 
darkened  and  the  curtains  drawn  around  it,  while,  with- 
out repulsing  my  attentions,  he  seemed  to  prefer  commu- 
ning with  himself  in  silence.  I  saw  that  a  violent  strug- 
gle was  going  on,  rendered  more  overwhelming  by  his 
physical  weakness.      This  lasted  some  days. 

"  Cornelia,1'  said  he  to  me  at  length,  in  a  tone  of  bit- 
terness, "  I  intended  to  have  surprised  you  with  a  gift 
from  my  poor  Ellen — a  likeness  of  Arthur  Marion  ;  do  you 
remember  him  ?  Look  in  my  writing-desk  and  bring  it 
to  me." 

I  went  and  presented  it  with  a  trembling  hand,  not  da- 
ring to  glance  at  it.  He  told  me  to  open  a  shutter  ;  I  did, 
and  the  bright  light  burst  in  on  the  miniature  and  on  him. 

"  Come  here,"  said  he,  sternly ;  "  come  and  look."  I 
obeyed  ;  the  likeness  was  perfect.  The  girl  who  dreams 
of  Endymion  never  pictured  anything  more  beautiful.  I 
glanced  at  Arthur's  face,  it  was  disfigured  with  conflict- 
ing passions.  I  perceived  that  this  was  his  last  great 
trial,  and  braced  myself  for  the  result.  He  sat  up  in  the 
bed,  to  which  he  had  been  confined  since  his  fall,  gazed 
long  and  earnestly  on  the  picture,  then,  clinching  it  with 
upraised  arm,  dashed  it  against  the  ceiling.  He  watched 
it  as  it  was  shivered  to  atoms ;  then,  drawing  the  bed- 
clothes over  his  face,  wept  and  sobbed  aloud. 

I  kneeled  beside  him,  clasped  his  hands  in  mine,  laid  my 
head  on  his  pillow,  and  moaned  as  a  mother  with  her 
suffering  child.  I  prayed  to  God  to  comfort  him,  and 
the  prayer  was  accepted.  It  was  his  last  great  struggle, 
and  he  rose  from  it  like  a  man  and  a  Christian. 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  233 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

CHANGES. WHITE    SERVANTS. 

"  If  obliged  to  attend  to  some  household  affair, 
I  have  scarce  so  much  time  as  to  say  the  Lord's  prayer ; 
This  gives  me  no  trouble  ;  my  dutiful  part 
Is  obedience  to  him,  whom  I  have  at  my  heart 
As  well  at  my  work  as  retiring  to  pray ; 
And  his  love  does  not  suffer  in  mine  a  decay. 
He  has  taught  me  himself,  that  a  work  which  I  do 
For  his  sake  is  a  prayer  very  real  and  true." 

Poems  of  John  Byrom.  1691. 

I  know  of  no  purer  or  more  sacred  pleasure  than  to 
watch  the  recovery  of  a  beloved  valetudinarian,  to  see 
the  eye  light  up  from  day  to  day,  and  the  grateful  smile 
play  round  the  lip  ;  to  note  the  growing  relish  of  the  deli- 
cate appetite  ;  to  support  the  footsteps  of  the  feeble  one 
a  little  farther,  from  effort  to  effort ;  to  see  the  glance  rest 
soothingly  on  a  fresh  flower ;  to  hear  the  exclamation  of 
joy  at  the  first  view  of  nature,  as,  leaning  on  our  arm,  the 
invalid  looks  abroad ;  to  note  the  strengthening  mind 
yield  itself  up  while  words  of  sacred  truth  or  lighter 
amusement  are  read ;  to  take  the  first  drive,  and  mark 
how  the  breeze  and  sunshine  come  to  the  languid  spirit 
as  to  a  drooping  plant,  lifting  up  its  leaves  of  hope  and  joy. 

It  was  delightful  to  me  to  be  the  minister  of  comfort 
to  Arthur,  and  to  see  the  shadows  pass  off"  from  his  clear 
thoughts.  He  was  a  religious  being,  and  it  was  his  com- 
fort to  throw  his  cares  on  Him  "  who  cared  for  him." 
The  sight  of  Patsey  was  at  first  painful  to  him,  but  the 
dear  child  soon  won  her  way  to  his  confidence  ;  she  laid 
her  little  head  on  his  knees,  climbed  to  his  arms,  and 
told  him,  in  childhood's  winning  tones,  her  pleasures  and 
troubles.  Her  grief  for  Binah's  loss  was  exceedingly 
affecting.  She  went  about  the  house  and  grounds  cal- 
ling for  her  mauma,  or  sang  in  low  tones  the  hymns  she 
had  taught  her ;  and  when  the  hour  arrived  when  she 
U2 


234  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

had  been  accustomed  to  lay  her  flaxen  locks  against 
Binah's  sable  cheek,  while  she  soothed  her  to  sleep,  for 
several  nights  a  restless  and  plaintive  sound  murmured 
on  her  lips,  and  an  eager  watching,  as  for  something  lost, 
dwelt  in  her  troubled  eye. 

Marion  regained  with  health  much  of  his  original  sym- 
metry. The  radiance  and  softness  of  his  dark  eyes 
were  unquenched,  and  the  long  lashes  gathered  lovingly 
below  them ;  the  curled  lip  regained  its  fulness  and  rich- 
ness, and  even  the  deep  scar  on  his  brow  was  hidden  by 
the  lock  of  hair  whose  pliant  curl  I  loved  to  adjust, 
when  he,  forgetful  of  the  defect,  carelessly  brushed  it 
aside. 

There  was  no  obstacle  to  our  marriage.  The  whole 
clan  of  Wiltons  and  Marions  met  at  Roseland,  where 
mamma,  revelling  in  housewifery  cheer,  moved  as  in  a 
native  element.  Strange  to  say,  there  were  but  two  of- 
fences given — one  to  a  maiden  cousin  of  Arthur's,  who 
had  commenced  making  a  nightcap  for  me  the  day  our 
engagement  was  announced  to  her.  It  was  cut  in  math- 
ematical forms  of  every  shape  and  size,  embellished  with 
inserting  trimming,  and  finished  with  two  frills  ;  yet,  not- 
withstanding this  token,  she  was  omitted  in  the  invita- 
tions. I  sent  her  an  extra  slice  of  cake  to  conciliate 
her,  but  it  was  returned  unopened,  and  she  has  never 
spoken  to  me  to  this  day.  The  other  individual  was  a 
coloured  confectioner  in  the  city,  who  expected  to  make 
my  cake.  The  first  time  I  met  her  after  my  marriage 
she  cut  me,  tossed  up  her  head,  and  passed  on ;  but  we 
were  reconciled  on  my  bespeaking  my  entertainment  at 
my  first  city  party  from  her. 

Our  summer  was  passed  in  journeying,  and  we  realized 
the  rich  experience  of  happiness  shared  by  individuals 
who  sympathize  in  taste  and  feeling.  We  felt  a  thrill 
in  common  while  traversing  the  wild  passes  of  Trenton 
Falls ;  the  mutual  prayer  burst  from  our  lips  beneath  and 
above  Niagara's  torrent ;  we  clasped  each  other's  hands 
on  the  brow  of  the  Green  Hills,  and  gazed  upward  to- 
gether in  awe-struck  homage  at  the  White  Mountains  ; 
and  it  was  with  my  own  Arthur  that  I  wept,  his  old 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  235 

father  standing  by,  over  Duncan's  grave.  Unwedded 
love  has  its  jealousies,  and  wills  not  that  even  a  flower 
should  be  prized  too  highly ;  but  wedded  confidence  is 
pure ;  knowing  that  all  is  possessed  of  the  heart's  deep 
treasures,  it  gives  and  shares  with  sober  joy.  Arthur 
stood  silently  by  my  side  while  memory  lent  its  tribute 
to  true  and  tender  friendship ;  and  afterward,  folding  me 
in  sympathy  to  his  heart,  prayed  that  he  might  be  worthy 
of  such  tears. 

The  strong  local  attachment  of  negroes  was  developed 
in  a  most  interesting  and  amusing  manner  on  our  jour- 
ney. Four  years  previous  to  my  marriage,  a  patron,  by 
The  name  of  Ormsby,  belonging  to  one  of  papa's  schooners, 
was  carried  away  under  mysterious  circumstances,  with 
another  negro,  a  simple,  half-idiot  fellow,  belonging  also 
to  papa.  When  their  loss  was  announced  and  finally 
confirmed  on  the  plantation,  it  was  received  by  Ormsby's 
wife  with  an  apparent  calmness  singularly  contrasted 
with  the  usual  obstreperous  grief  of  her  class.  It  was 
observed,  however,  that  as  day  passed  away  after  day, 
she  never  smiled ;  and,  though  still  attentive  to  her  duty, 
wasted  away  without  any  symptom  of  disease.  Love 
had  been  the  sun  of  her  existence  as  it  had  been  to  poor 
Anna's  more  refined  affection.  The  vase,  though  col- 
oured differently,  glowed  by  the  same  light  from  within ; 
when  that  light  was  extinguished,  creation  seemed  dark 
to  both.  She  went  to  her  daily  tasks  heedless  of  the 
jests  of  her  lighter-hearted  companions  ;  the  cloud  still 
hung  around  her  face  and  over  her  soul,  and  in  a  year 
and  a  half  she  died,  broken-hearted. 

Arthur  and  I  were  attended  in  our  journey  from  the 
South  by  papa's  coachman,  and.  in  a  Northern  city  he 
unexpectedly  encountered  Ormsby.  The  poor  patron 
sprang  towards  his  fellow-servant,  wrung  his  hand,  and 
burst  into  tears.  He  was  conducted  to  me,  and  no 
sooner  recognised  me  than  he  fell  on  his  knees  at  my 
feet,  clung  to  my  garments,  burst  into  tears  anew,  and  1 
thanked  God  that  he  lived  to  see  one  of  our  family  again.  ■ 
He  had  been  carried  to  Calcutta,  had  worked  his  way 
back  to  America,  and  was   endeavouring  to  return  to 


236  REC0LLECTI0N3    OF    A 

Carolina.  I  told  him  that  he  was  at  liberty  to  remaift 
where  he  was,  but  he  said  his  only  wish  on  earth  was  to 
live  and  die  in  his  master's  service.  The  idiot  fellow, 
who  was  with  him,  manifested  his  feelings  in  an  uncouth 
style,  and  all  his  affections  were  riveted  on  the  schooner 
from  which  he  had  been  forced  away.  On  our  return, 
papa  told  them  that  they  were  at  liberty  to  dispose  of 
their  own  time  as  they  pleased.  The  idiot  rushed  to  his 
schooner,  hugged  the  mast,  kissed  the  rigging,  tossed  up 
his  hat  in  the  air,  hurrahed  ;  then  lying  down  complacently 
with  his  face  to  the  sun,  swore  he  would  live  and  die 
there ;  and  he  kept  his  word.  Through  the  winter  he 
served  as  a  sailor,  and  in  summer,  when  the  schooner 
was  lying  by,  made  her  his  home.  Ormsby  continued 
an  exemplary  servant,  devoted  to  papa's  interests.  Less 
romantic  than  his  faithful  wife,  he  married  again,  as  he 
said,  to  be  comfortable,  but  not  until  he  had  raised  a 
simple  slab,  in  the  negro  burial-place  at  Roseland,  to  the 
memory  of  the  broken-hearted  one. 

This  local  feeling  was  also  manifested  in  our  coach- 
man while  we  were  at  Niagara.  After  the  silent  and 
overwhelming  joy  which  ravished  his  spirit  had  passed 
away,  Arthur  said  to  Mark — 

"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  fine  as  this,  boy !" 

"  Eh !  eh !  maussa,"  said  the  indignant  fellow,  snap- 
ping his  fingers,  "  dis  here  can't  show  he  face  to  Couter 
Bridge  !" 

Couter  Bridge  consists  of  a  few  planks  thrown  over  a 
muddy  spot  in  the  suburbs  of  Charleston,  a  spot  sacred 
to  the  truant  frolics  of  many  an  errand  boy. 

Amid  our  plans  for  the  future  we  resolved  to  engage 
a  white  female  housekeeper.  A  young  woman  was  rec- 
ommended to  us,  and  her  unfortunate  circumstances  de- 
cided us  to  take  her  to  the  South.  Her  parents  were 
both  intemperate,  and  appropriated  to  their  sensual  wants 
her  daily  earnings.  Saddened  and  disheartened,  unable 
to  support,  and  without  the  hope  of  reclaiming  them,  she 
resolved  to  accompany  us.  Accidental  engagements 
prevented  our  meeting  until  we  were  on  board  the  vessel, 
and  I  was  somewhat  startled  to  find  my  housekeeper, 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  237 

Miss  Lucilla  Hall,  in  a  cloth  riding-habit,  and  straw  bon- 
net fresher  and  better  than  my' own.  There  was  a  flash 
of  self-respect  in  her  large  dark  eyes,  and  her  dress  was 
fitted  to  her  person  with  a  precision  that  showed  a  deter- 
mination to  compete  in  appearance  with  those  above  her. 
She  was  not  actually  graceful  or  elegant,  but  how  could  I 
think  of  ordering  such  a  person  1  I  was  really  embarras- 
sed, said  ma'am  to  her  in  my  incertitude,  and  used  as  much 
form,  and  perhaps  more,  than  I  should  to  a  distinguished 
stranger.  Southerners  must  necessarily  experience  this 
awkwardness  from  the  different  mode  in  which  servitude 
exists  in  other  portions  of  the  country.  Lucilla's  discre- 
tion and  good  sense  soon,  however,  determined  her  level. 
She  began  superintending  my  baggage,  and  sat  at  that 
unobtrusive  distance  where  she  could  be  summoned 
without  seeming  to  be  a  companion.  The  only  attempt 
at  refinement  on  board  the  vessel  which  did  not  sit 
gracefully  on  her,  was  a  conversation  with  a  passenger, 
which  I  accidentally  heard,  on  Walter  Scott's  last  novel ! 
How  can  I  ask  her  to  bring  me  a  glass  of  water  1  thought 
I ;  and  my  difficulty  in  placing  her  in  the  right  position 
at  home  again  occurred  to  me. 

On  the  evening  of  our  arrival  I  showed  her  her  apart- 
ment, and  paid  her  every  attention  in  my  power,  which 
was  rewarded  by  her  air  of  happiness  and  content.  I 
bade  her  good-night  cheerfully,  and  left  the  dependant 
stranger  to  her  busy  dreams.  The  next  morning,  as  I 
opened  the  parlour  door,  I  found  her  standing  with  a 
newspaper  in  her  hand.  A  deep  red  spot  shone  on  her 
cheek;  her  eye  flashed  a  moment;  then,  dropping  the  paper 
and  covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  she  burst  into  tears 
and  left  the  room. 

I  took  up  the  paper,  and  saw  the  secret  of  her  wound- 
ed feelings  in  the  announcement  of  the  arrival  of  Arthur 
Marion,  Esq.,  lady,  and  servant!  Poor  Lucilla,  a  dark 
cloud  rested  for  several  days  on  her  countenance ;  nor 
were  her  social  relations,  though  I  studied  her  feelings 
in  every  mode  in  my  power,  calculated  to  make  her 
happy.  She  seemed  to  hang  in  an  unbalanced  sphere 
between  me  and  the  servants  of  the  household.     By-and- 


238  RECOLLECTIONS  OF   A 

by,  however,  a  love  passage   came  in  to  throw  a  little 
light  over  her  heart. 

A  young  carpenter  in  the  neighbourhood,  whom  she 
had  never  seen,  sent  her  a  brace  of  birds  and  a  water- 
melon, upon  which  she  came,  blushing  with  surprise,  and 
asked  my  advice.  I  told  her  it  was  probably  a  piece  of 
neighbourly  attention,  and  she  had  best  accept  them. 
The  following  day  another  watermelon  came,  with  the 
initials  of  both  parties  carved  on  the  rind ;  and  on  the 
third,  as  Lucilla  stood  in  the  piazza,  two  hands  pushed  a 
huge  one  through  the  partially-opened  street  door;  it 
rolled  towards  the  excited  girl,  and  she  saw  in  large 
letters  on  the  green  rind : — 

"J.  M. 

to 
L.  H. 

" '  Jf  you  love  me  as  I  love  you, 

No  knife  shall  cut  our  love  in  two.'  "  - 

Lucilla  had  not  a  spark  of  coquetry,  and  was  evidently 
affected  by  this  novel  courtship  :  my  advice  ceased  to  be 
asked,  and  I  lost  my  pretty  housekeeper,  who  soon 
headed  an  establishment  of  her  own. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  first  great  impulse  was 
given  to  the  temperance  cause  in  Massachusetts.  An 
individual,  who  may  perhaps  read  these  pages,  made  the 
parents  of  Lucilla  his  especial  care  ;  they  signed  the 
pledge,  reformed,  and  have  since  gone  down  to  peaceful 
graves,  leaving  their  blessing  and  God's  smile  on  their 
benefactor. 

The  history  of  Lucilla's  successor,  which  I  will  give 
in  her  own  language,  illustrates  some  of  the  difficulties 
of  servitude,  and  is  a  beautiful  picture  of  the  every-day 
struggles  of  the  conscientious  poor.  It  will  be  seen  by 
these  two  cases  how  difficult  it  is  to  study  the  wishes  of 
white  dependants  among  us  who  have  any  refinement; 
the  vulgar  we  cannot  tolerate.  Though  strictly  attentive 
to  her  duties,  I  perceived  that  her  feelings  were  labour- 
ing under  some  excitement ;  and  while  seeking  my  pres- 
ence under  various  pretences,  her  manner  was  never  se- 
rene and  composed. 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  239 

One  evening  when  I  was  alone  in  the  country,  waiting 
Arthur's  return  from  a  club,  I  sent  for  Betsey  from  her 
own  room  to  sit  with  me.  A  cheerful  fire  blazed  on  the 
hearth  ;  and  as  we  sat  sewing  together,  I  asked  her  some 
questions  about  her  early  life,  expressed  my  surprise  at 
her  correct  language  and  manners,  and  by  degrees  drew 
from  her  her  simple  story. 

"  I  do  not  recollect  my  father  or  mother,"  said  my 
humble  companion ;  "  but  at  seven  I  was  bound  by  the 
overseers  of  the  poor  to  a  lady  in  Boston,  who  promised 
to  keep  me  until  I  was  eighteen,  and  provide  for  me,  at 
the  end  of  my  service,  a  situation  where  I  might  learn  a 
trade.  A  chdd  of  seven  years  is  very  young  to  be  cast 
out  on  the  world,  and  many  were  the  sufferings  I  en- 
dured. Mrs.  Granby  was  very  kind  to  me  ;  but  she  had 
several  young  children  who  were  badly  managed,  and  I 
was  made  the  sport  of  their  ill-humours.  If  they  broke  a 
plate,  it  was  immediately  said,  Betsey  has  done  it ;  if  the 
sugar  was  eaten  out  of  the  sugar-bowl,  the  theft  was  laid 
to  me  ;  if  one  of  the  children  cried,  it  was  Betsey  who 
teased  her.  Sometimes  when  I  was  sent  into  the  nurse- 
ry to  watch  them,  we  all  played  happily  together,  and 
then  I  forgot  my  troubles.  Mrs.  Granby  was  opposed  to 
punishment,  and  therefore  the  children  were  allowed  to 
do  as  they  pleased.  I  have  often  gone  to  bed  and  wept 
myself  to  sleep  at  the  injustice  that  was  done  me.  One 
little  girl,  about  four  years  of  age,  was  afraid  to  go  to  bed 
alone  ;  and  it  was  my  task  to  lie  down  by  her  until  she 
was  fast  asleep.  Many  a  cold  evening  I  have  laid  shiv- 
ering on  the  outside  of  the  bed,  hoping  every  moment  she 
would  drop  asleep ;  and  just  as  I  imagined  I  could  get 
away,  she  would  bounce  up,  and  cry,  '  Betsey,  Betsey, 
you  shan't  go  away  !'  Sometimes  I  would  drop  to  sleep 
myself,  and  then,  when  it  was  time  to  lay  the  table  for 
supper,  I  was  obliged  to  rouse  myself,  and  go  down  half 
awake.  I  did  not  have  any  very  hard  work  to  do,  but  I 
was  called  on  for  every  purpose  ;  if  anything  was  lost, 
Betsey  must  find  it — if  wood  was  wanted,  I  must  bring 
it.  The  grown-up  servants  in  the  kitchen,  as  well  as  the 
children  in  the  parlour,  laid  every  blame  on  me,  so  that  I 


240  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

hardly  knew  what  was  right  or  wrong.  If  I  told  the 
truth,  I  was  an  impudent  hussy  ;  and  if  I  tried  to  conceal 
anything,  I  was  a  deceitful  child.  I  was  willing  to  work, 
but  was  liable  to  so  many  interruptions  that  I  accomplished 
nothing. 

"  I  lived  in  this  family  until  I  was  ten  years  old,  when 
Mrs.  Granby  died,  and  I  was  released  from  that  service. 
I  had  been  very  much  neglected,  and  scarcely  knew  right 
from  wrong;  but  God  watched  over  me,  and  I  Was  kept 
from  sin.  I  had  a  little  Bible,  which  had  been  my 
mother's ;  and  although  I  could  not  read  in  it,  I  always 
kept  it  under  my  pillow,  and  I  thought  it  would  help  to 
make  me  good. 

"  After  the  funeral,  I  seemed  to  be  left  alone  ;  for  al- 
though Mrs.  Granby  had  done  little  for  me,  still  she  was 
kind,  and  fed  and  clothed  me  ;  I  had,  besides,  become  at- 
tached to  the  little  girl  by  whose  side  I  had  laid  so  many 
nights  ;  and  when  I  saw  the  carriage  drive  up  to  the  door 
which  was  to  take  them  all  to  their  grandmother's  in  the 
country,  I  thought  I  should  die  with  grief. 

"  It  was  soon  spoken  of  in  the  neighbourhood  that  lit- 
tle Betsey  wanted  a  place,  and  a  lady  came  for  me.  In 
this  new  situation  there  were  no  children.  The  lady 
was  very  sickly,  and  wished  me  to  wait  on  her,  and  to 
be  constantly  in  the  room  with  her.  The  change  was 
very  great,  from  one  of  noise,  and  disorder,  and  merri- 
ment, to  a  regular,  quiet  home,  where  neatness  and  reg- 
ularity were  enjoyed  and  scrupulously  practised.  I  was 
scrubbed  from  head  to  feet,  and  new  and  decent  garments 
were  made  for  me.  Here  I  was  taught  to  sew  and  read, 
and  at  length  could  understand  my  own  dear  little  Bible. 
Here  I  learned  the  duty  of  submitting  to  the  will  of 
Providence  ;  and  if  severity  of  discipline  sometimes  made 
my  tears  How,  the  word  of  God  taught  me  to  bear  my  lot 
with  patience.  Mrs.  Leitch  was  fretful,  and  often  unrea- 
sonable ;  she  thought  it  no  harm  to  keep  me  confined  in 
her  apartment  day  after  day,  sewing  and  knitting  without 
intermission.  She  could  not  spare  me  to  go  to  school ; 
and  as  she  felt  it  a  duty  that  I  should  be  instructed  in 
reading,  as  well  as  in  moral  and  religious  duties,  she 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  241 

taught  me  herself  in  those  hours  of  ease  which  she  some- 
times enjoyed.  But  you  can  hardly  imagine  how  I  longed 
to  run  out  and  play  in  the  sun  and  air,  and  to  expand  my 
limbs.  But  I  could  never  go  ;  and  it  was  wearisome  to 
me  to  sit  upright  on  a  cricket*  at  work,  or  getting  my 
lessons,  the  whole  day.  Sometimes  my  labour  was  va- 
ried by  the  necessity  of  rubbing  Mrs.  Leitch  when  she 
was  in  pain.  I  took  pleasure  in  doing  anything  to  pro- 
cure her  ease. 

"  Such  confinement  and  seclusion  from  persons  of  my 
own  age  wore  upon  my  spirits,  and  I  began  to  droop. 
One  day  she  asked  me  if  I  was  unhappy,  and  if  I  wanted 
anything.  She  seemed  sorry  for  me,  and  I  ventured  to 
tell  her  I  wished  sometimes  to  go  out  as  other  children 
did.  She  was  very  angry,  and  called  me  ungrateful, 
when  she  had  done  so  much  for  me. 

"  '  In  one  year,'  said  she,  '  you  have  been  transformed 
from  a  dirty,  ignorant,  ragged  child,  to  a  neat,  well-clothed, 
and  instructed  waiting-maid.  You  have  no  hard  work  or 
drudgery  to  perform,  and  have  only  to  sit  here  with  me 
like  a  lady  !' 

"  I  told  her  she  had  been  very  kind  and  bountiful  to  me, 
and  that  I  would  try  and  be  contented.  But  she  became 
from  that  time  very  much  dissatisfied  with  me.  I  was 
not  allowed  to  read  or  write,  and  was  obliged  to  sew  all 
day.  If  I  rubbed  her,  she  said  I  took  pains  to  hurt  her  ; 
if  I  made  the  least  noise,  it  was  done  on  purpose  to  make 
her  head  ache  ;  if  I  looked  out  of  the  window,  it  was  be- 
cause I  wanted  to  be  a  vagabond  about  the  streets.  I 
had  no  friends  to  whom  I  could  apply,  and  I  knew  not 
what  to  do.  I  was  now  twelve  years  old,  and  I  one  day 
took  courage  to  ask  her  to  let  me  find  another  place. 

"  '  No,'  said  she ;  '  after  I  have  had  so  much  trouble  in 
teaching  you  my  ways,  I  shall  not  let  you  go.'  Finding 
no  hope  of  getting  away,  I  looked  into  my  Bible  for  com- 
fort, and  saw,  '  The  Lord  preserveth  the  simple  ;  I  was 
brought  low,  and  He  helped  me.'  I  prayed  for  patience, 
and  it  was  given  to  me  ;  I  was  gentle  and  docile,  and  Mrs. 

*  Term  used  in  New-England  for  a  low  bench  or  stool. 

X 


242  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

Leitch  again  became  kind.  At  length  the  physicians  or- 
dered her  to  try  a  change  of  climate,  and  she  released  me 
from  my  service,  and  found  me  a  place  with  a  friend  of 
her  own.  She  provided  me  with  clothes,  and  gave  me 
some  books  and  ten  dollars.  I  shed  tears  at  parting 
with  her  ;  for  although  she  was  often  unreasonable,  still 
1  perceived  that  I  had  been  much  improved  in  her  service. 
I  accompanied  her  friend,  Mrs.  Grant,  to  a  country  resi- 
dence, and  found  myself,  for  the  first  time,  among  fields 
and  flowers.  There  my  spirit  bounded,  and  I  was  happy 
in  those  innocent  pleasures  which  spring  from  the  boun- 
ties of  nature.  It  was  my  business  here  to  attend  on  a 
sweet  little  girl  of  three  years  old,  an  only  child.  I  used 
to  drag  her  in  a  carriage  through  the  walks  in  the  gar- 
den, and  pick  fruit  and  flowers,  and  throw  in  her  lap.  I 
arose  with  the  sun,  and  it  was  delightful  to  go  out  and 
hear  the  birds  sing,  and  take  my  little  girl  by  the  hand 
and  walk  down  to  the  side  of  the  river,  and  see  the  wa- 
ters glide  along !  I  was  not  required  to  perform  any 
other  labour  than  to  attend  this  darling  child,  and  I  was 
allowed  to  read  and  employ  myself  in  any  way,  so  that  I 
still  kept  my  attention  fixed  on  her.  We  were  always 
in  the  room  with  her  mother,  except  when  little  Mary 
was  required  to  take  exercise,  which  was  several  hours 
every  day.  The  mildness  of  my  temper  gave  Mrs.  Grant 
a  confidence  in  my  care,  and  I  was  allowed  to  carry  her 
about  without  restraint.  I  now  found  the  value  of  the 
discipline  to  which  I  had  been  accustomed  ;  my  habits 
of  order  and  industry  made  my  services  quite  valuable  ; 
and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  me,  after  my  walk  in  the  morn- 
ing with  the  little  child,  to  sit  down  in  the  room  with 
her,  and  teach  her  little  lessons  and  hymns.  Never  was 
any  young  creature  so  gay  and  happy  as  myself.  Mrs. 
Grant  gave  me  leave  to  attend  the  Sunday-school,  and 
there  I  was  instructed  in  those  moral  and  religious  truths 
which  teach  us  our  obligation  to  God  and  our  duty  to 
our  fellow-mortals. 

"  Autumn  came  and  winter,  and  still  found  me  happy, 
and  thankful  to  God  for  this  asylum.  When  I  awoke  in 
the  morning  and  looked  forth  on  the  fields  and  distant 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  243 

hills  covered  with  snow,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  the 
magnificence  of  nature.  I  almost  forgot  that  I  was  poor 
and  dependant,  and  that  I  might  at  any  moment  be  cast 
out  to  seek  my  bread  among  strangers.  At  length  the 
birds  began  to  sing  ;  the  flowers  sprang  up ;  and  the 
trees  put  forth  their  blossoms.  I  held  our  dear  little 
Mary  by  the  hand,  and  had  just  fixed  a  nosegay  to  carry 
in  to  her  mother,  when,  as  we  reached  the  door,  two 
men  came  up  and  asked  for  Mrs.  Grant.  I  introduced 
them  into  the  parlour,  and  one  of  them  handed  her  a 
letter ;  she  read  it,  uttered  not  a  word,  but  would 
have  fallen  to  the  floor,  if  I  had  not  sprung  to  her  and 
supported  her.  The  men  looked  at  her  with  great  com- 
passion. At  length  she  recovered  ;  and  when  she  could 
speak,  said,  '  We  are  ruined,  Betsey.  Mr.  Grant  is  in 
jail !     I  must  give  up  all  and  go  to  him  !' 

"  It  was  even  so.  He  had  been  unfortunate  in  some 
speculations,  and  all  his  property  was  attached.  At 
that  moment  I  did  not  think  of  a  separation  from  this 
dear  lady  and  her  sweet  child,  and  thought  I  should  go 
with  her  to  prison  ;  but  she  soon  convinced  me  that  it 
would  be  impossible.  She  said  she  must  give  up  all 
her  indulgences,  wait  on  herself,  and  try  to  assist  her  hus- 
band. After  exhausting  myself  in  unavailing  sympathy 
for  her,  the  forlornness  of  my  situation  rushed  on  my 
mind,  and  I  felt  that  I.  must  lose  the  home  where  I  had 
been  so  happy  for  one  whole  year ;  and  to  part  with  my 
dear  little  Mary  was  the  hardest  fate  of  all. 

"After a  short  struggle,  Mrs.  Grant  summoned  up  her 
resolution,  delivered  the  house  and  furniture  into  the 
hands  of  the  officer,  and  began  to  make  arrangements  for 
her  own  departure.  She  collected  her  domestics,  and 
gave  them  all  she  could — good  advice  and  a  good  charac- 
ter, with  a  promise,  if  it  should  ever  be  in  her  power,  to 
pay  them  the  wages  that  remained  due.  They  were 
much  attached  to  her,  and  begged  her  not  to  think  of 
them,  but  hoped  for  her  sake  that  her  husband  would  get 
out  of  his  difficulties.  They  took  a  respectful  leave,  and 
with  many  tears  departed  from  a  house  where  they  had 
been  treated  more  like  friends  than  servants.     They  had 


244  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A 

friends  and  acquaintances,  knew  how  to  make  themselves 
useful,  and  could  soon  get  into  a  new  service ;  but  for 
me,  where,  alas  !  could  I  go  ?  I  went  to  my  little  cham- 
ber, where  I  had  so  often  kissed  Mary  to  sleep,  and  there 
wept  bitterly.  Presently  I  heard  that  sweet  voice  cal- 
ling, '  Betsey,  Betsey,  come  to  my  mother !'  I  wiped 
away  my  tears  and  tried  to  compose  myself. 

"  My  good  friend  held  out  her  hand  to  me,  and  said, 
'  Betsey,  this  is  the  hardest  task  of  all ;  you  have  been 
so  affectionate  and  so  faithful  to  my  child  that  I  can 
hardly  give  you  up.  Oh,  my  poor  girl,  I  cannot  pay  you 
your  year's  earnings,  or  the  ten  dollars  you  gave  me  to 
keep  for  you !' 

"  She  had  often  advised  me  to  take  up  my  wages,  and 
put  the  money  in  the  savings  bank ;  but  it  was  some 
trouble,  and  it  was  put  off.  I  begged  her  not  to  think 
of  me,  but  to  allow  me  to  assist  her  in  packing  up. 
This  was  a  heartrending  business  ;  and  as  I  folded  little 
Mary's  clothes,  and  laid  them  one  after  another  in  the 
travelling  trunk,  my  tears  flowed  afresh.  The  little  child 
came  and  put  her  arms  around  my  neck,  and  said, '  Don't 
cry,  Betsey  ;  Mary  will  soon  come  back  and  bring  you 
sugar-plums  and  cake !' 

"  At  length  all  was  ready.  Mrs.  Grant  had  selected 
such  articles  from  her  own  clothes  as  she  thought  would 
be  useful  to  me,  and  insisted  on  my  taking  them.  She 
also  gave  me  a  written  certificate  of  good  character  and 
conduct,  and  recommended  me  to  the  care  of  a  poor  but 
respectable  woman,  who  was  under  obligations  to  her, 
and  with  whom  I  was  to  remain  until  I  found  a  place- 
The  carriage  drove  off,  and  I  was  left  the  last  in  the 
house,  to  lament  alone. 

"Those  who  have  the  comfort  and  protection  of  a 
father's  house,  and  whose  wants  are  all  supplied  by  pa- 
rental affection,  can  little  imagine  the  desolate  feeling  I 
endured  when  I  saw  the  door  close  which  shut  me  out 
from  a  happy  home.  But  it  was  necessary  I  should 
exert  myself,  and  I  took  up  my  bundle  and  walked  on. 

"  I  was  kindly  received  by  the  good  woman  to  whom 
I  had  been  recommended.     After  some  days,  I  heard  of 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  245 

u  lady  who  wanted  a  chambermaid.  I  was  now  about 
fourteen,  and  large  of  my  age.  The  lady  took  my  cer- 
tificate and  read  it,  then  handed  it  to  her  daughters,  three 
young  ladies,  who  sat  in  the  room. 
-  "  '  Honest,  good-tempered,  faithful,'  were  pronounced 
aloud.  '  A  very  good  character,  young  woman,'  said  the 
lady  :  '  but  what  kind  of  work  can  you  do  V 

" '  I  can  sew,  and  knit,  and  read,'  said  I ;  '  and  I  have 
been  accustomed  to  attend  on  a  sick  lady  and  little 
child.' 

"  At  this  reply  they  all  burst  out  a  laughing ;  I 
thought  I  must  have  said  something  very  ridiculous.  At 
length  the  lady  asked  me  '  if  I  could  wash  and  iron.' 
'  No,  ma'am.'  '  Do  up  nice  muslins  and  laces  V  '  No, 
ma'am.'  '  Clean  a  foom  V  '  I  have  never  tried,  but 
could  easily  learn.'  '  Well,  young  woman,  you  will  not 
do  for  me,  as  we  do  our  own  sewing  and  reading,  and 
we  want  a  chambermaid  who  knows  how  to  work.' 

"  I  went  away  with  a  heavy  heart !  On  my  next  ap- 
plication for  a  place  I  was  careful  not  to  say  anything  of 
my  qualification  for  reading  and  sewing,  and  merely  an- 
swered to  the  inquiries  that  were  made,  that  I  was  wil- 
ling to  do  any  kind  of  work,  and  had  no  doubt  that  I 
should  give  satisfaction.  I  was  so  unwilling  to  be  a  tax 
on  the  poor  woman  who  sheltered  me,  that  I  engaged  to  do 
more  than  I  honestly  thought  I  could  accomplish ;  and  if 
I  was  wrong  I  hope  God  will  forgive  me. 

"  On  Sunday  evening  I  entered  on  my  new  service. 
Here  was  a  large  family  of  grown-up  people.  Mrs. 
Holt,  the  mistress  of  the  house,  an  active,  stirring  body, 
kept  every  one  in  her  employment  at  work.  My  com- 
panions in  the  kitchen  were  a  large  red-faced  woman 
who  cooked,  a  man  who  took  care  of  the  horses  and 
worked  in  the  garden,  and  a  boy  to  wait  on  table  and 
make  the  fires.  They  were  all  vulgar,  coarse-looking 
people.  They  soon  found  out  that  I  had  been  delicately 
brought  up,  and  conceived  a  great  dislike  for  me.  I 
was  soon  known  by  the  nickname  of  '  Miss  Mince.'  On 
Monday  morning  the  clothes  were  brought  forth  to  be 
washed,  and  for  the  first  time  I  took  my  place  at  the 


246  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

washtub.  It  was  not  long  before  I  rubbed  the  skin 
from  my  hands,  and  the  pain  and  smart  of  the  soap  was 
intolerable  ;  still  I  did  not  dare  to  complain.  It  was 
fortunate  that  I  was  called  from  the  washtub  frequently 
to  do  other  work  about  the  house,  or  I  could  not  have 
gotten  through  the  day.  At  last  we  got  through  the  long 
day ;  the  kitchen  floor  was  washed,  and  the  tea  things 
put  away,  and  I  took  a  book  of  devotion  from  my  pocket 
and  began  to  read.  All  my  companions  laughed  at  me, 
and  said  I  should  soon  be  taught  better  than  that.  I 
asked  them  very  mildly  if  they  wished  me  to  do  anything 
for  them  ;  they  said  no,  but  still  kept  on  laughing.  In  a 
few  minutes  in  came  the  mistress.  She  lifted  up  both 
hands,  and  exclaimed,  '  Heyday,  Betsey,  can't  you  find 
nothing  to  do  but  to  set  down  and  read  V  I  shut  up  my 
book  in  some  confusion,  and  said  I  hoped  she  would  ex- 
cuse me,  as  I  did  not  know  that  she  had  anything  for  me 
to  do  that  evening.  Her  anger  was  appeased  by  my 
gentleness,  and  she  said,  '  Well,  child,  you  should  come 
and  ask  for  work  when  you  do  not  know  what  to  do,  as 
I  cannot  afford  to  pay  help  unless  all  their  time  is  spent 
in  my  service.'  She  then  produced  a  large  basketful 
of  stockings,  and  told  me  to  employ  my  leisure  on  them, 
and  not  sit  idling  away  time  with  books  ! 

"  I  had  little  sympathy  from  my  companions.  Still  I 
never  retorted  when  they  said  harsh  or  satirical  things  to 
me.  By  this  method  I  gained  their  forbearance,  and  I 
have  always  found  that  a  kind  and  gentle  temper  will 
conciliate  the  most  unfeeling  and  ferocious.  Thus,  al- 
though I  was  not  happy,  they  restrained  their  taunts  ;  and 
sometimes,  when  we  were  all  seated  in  the  kitchen,  after 
our  labour  was  accomplished,  they  would  ask  me  to  read 
to  them.  This  indulgence  almost  cost  me  my  place,  as 
Mrs.  Holt  declared  she  would  have  no  such  doings,  and 
if  I  continued  such  a  practice  I  should  quit  the  house. 
Sometimes  I  took  a  little  bit  of  candle  to  enable  me  to 
read  a  chapter  in  my  little  Bible  before  I  went  to  sleep ; 
but  when  she  found  that  out,  she  obliged  me  to  go  to  bed 
in  the  dark. 

"  By  diligence  and  attention  1  soon  became  expert  in 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  247 

performing  all  the  work  that  was  required  of  me,  and  I 
should  have  been  contented  with  my  lot  if  I  could  have 
had  a  little  leisure  for  my  own  use.  Wben  it  was  found 
that  I  performed  my  work  with  so  much  despatch,  other 
labour  was  added.  The  young  ladies  of  the  family 
gave  me  their  sewing  and  mending,  and  so  encroached 
on  my  good-nature  that  they  frequently  kept  me  at  work 
until  midnight. 

"  I  continued  in  this  family  a  year  ;  but  their  demands 
on  my  services  increased,  and  they  were  so  unreasonable, 
that  I  resolved  to  quit  them.  I  told  them  my  intention ; 
they  were  astonished.  I  had  been  so  docile  and  sub- 
missive that  it  never  occurred  to  them  that  I  should  have 
resolution  enough  to  leave  them. 

"  At  this  period  I  accidentally  broke  a  valuable  glass 
dish.  I  never  could  tell  how  it  fell  from  my  hand,  but 
it  seemed  to  be  without  my  will  and  almost  without  my 
knowledge.  Mrs.  Holt  was  standing  by  when  the  acci- 
dent occurred.  I  saw  her  eye  kindle  with  passion,  and, 
before  I  could  apologize,  her  hand  came  with  a  powerful 
blow  en  my  ear,  and  the  expression,  '  Careless  hussy, 
and  trollop  !'  burst  from  her  angry  lips.  I  felt  faint  and 
frightened,  and  cried  as  if  my  heart  would  break ;  I 
wished  that  the  earth  would  open  and  take  me  in.  I  of- 
fered to  pay  for  the  loss  ;  the  money  was  declined,  but 
most  ungraciously,  and  the  few  days  I  remained  I  was 
hourly  twitted  about  the  broken  dish.  And  yet  it  re- 
quired a  great  effort  for  me  to  get  away.  I  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  submitting  to  circumstances,  and  it  seemed 
to  be  my  fate  to  encounter  hardships.  But  I  had  saved 
my  wages  for  one  year,  and  felt  some  degree  of  independ- 
ence. I  determined  to  stay  a  few  days  with  the  aged 
friend  with  whom  I  once  found  shelter ;  and  as  I  had 
now  the  means  of  paying  my  board,  I  felt  the  less  reluc- 
tance at  claiming  the  shelter  of  her  hospitable  roof.  Ac- 
cordingly, after  I  had  taken  a  respectful  leave  of  Mrs. 
Holt  and  her  daughters,  and  had  given  a  cordial  adieu  to 
my  companions  in  the  kitchen,  I  retired  to  the  repose  of 
humble  life.  I  was  truly  refreshed  by  the  sympathy  of 
my  old  friend,  and  the  quiet  and  rest  which  even  poverty 


248  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

can  offer  to  the  weary  heart.  I  had  time  to  think  of  my 
Creator  and  my  Redeemer ;  and  I  shall  never  forget  the 
feeling  of  happiness  I  enjoyed  the  first  Sabbath  I  found 
myself  at  liberty  to  attend  the  services  of  God's  holy 
temple  during  the  whole  day.  How  ardently  did  I  wish 
to  devote  myself  wholly  to  Him ;  and  if  I  ever  felt  in- 
clined to  repine  at  my  lot,  it  was  when  I  looked  round 
on  the  well-filled  church,  and  considered  what  Christian 
privileges  most  of  the  congregation  enjoyed,  and  how 
little  I  had  hitherto  been  enabled  to  mingle  my  prayers 
and  supplications  at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  how  igno- 
rant. I  had  remained  of  my  Christian  duties. 

"  This  day  was  an  anniversary  of  the  Sabbath-school, 
and  I  soon  discovered  that  the  privilege  of  attending  it 
extended  to  all,  and  that  I  had  only  to  make  known  my 
spiritual  wants  to  be  received  as  a  pupil.  From  this 
time  my  views  of  life  were  entirely  changed.  I  felt  my- 
self one  of  God's  creatures,  and  no  longer  suffered  from 
the  humiliation  of  being  an  outcast,  without  relatives  or 
friends.  I  now  realized  that  I  was  equally  the  subject 
of  his  providence,  and  that,  by  a  faithful  discharge  of  the 
duties  of  my  humble  station,  I  should  render  a  homage 
equally  acceptable  to  him  as  if  my  opportunities  were 
more  extensive.  '  An  humble  and  a  contrite  heart,  oh 
God  !  thou  wilt  not  despise ;'  and  as  I  breathed  in  si- 
lence a  prayer  for  the  influence  of  his  Holy  Spirit  on 
my  heart,  I  felt  that  mine  was  already  accepted ! 

"  It  was  at  this  period  that  I  heard  of  a  Southern  lady 
who  wished  i  white  servant,  and  I  applied  for  the  situa- 
tion. She  had  already  a  negro  attendant  of  her  own 
travelling  with  her.  For  the  first  few  days  that  we 
travelled  together  I  was  very  much  struck  with  the  for- 
mality of  her  manner  to  me,  and  the  intimacy  she  seemed 
to  feel  for  Dinah.  I  had  never  seen  but  one  negro  be- 
fore, and  always  had  a  dread  of  them  ;  from  early  preju- 
dice, I  could  hardly  believe  my  own  eyes  when  I  saw  the 
■  XStlrifidence  that  was  placed  in  Dinah. 

"  When  we  arrived  in  Charleston,  I  found  that  I  was 
to  go  into  the  country  and  keep  the  keys  for  a  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph, who  was  an  invalid.     I  cannot  describe  my  home- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  249 

sickness.  A  strange  fear  made  me  avoid  the  blacks. 
When  I  went  to  bed,  it  seemed  to  me  as  though  I 
should  see  their  faces  peering  through  the  doors  and 
windows.  Mrs.  Randolph's  politeness  to  me  was  pain- 
ful in  the  extreme.  I  felt  as  if  I  was  in  an  ice-palace. 
I  had  everything  I  wanted ;  indeed,  I  never  saw  so  much 
elegance  in  my  life,  and  never  had  such  attendance,  but 
it  seemed  all  above  and  below  me.  Mrs.  Randolph 
changing  her  residence,  you  were  kind  enough,  ma'am,  to 
take  an  interest  in  me,  and  I  will  make  bold  to  tell  you 
my  feelings.  My  own  voice  sometimes  frightens  me ; 
my  dreams  are  dreadful;  and  when  you  and  Mr.  Marion 
go  to  the  city,  I  feel  as  if  I  wanted  to  close  my  ears, 
and  shut  my  eyes,  and  stop  the  beating  of  my  heart  un- 
til you  come  back.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  return,"  she 
concluded,  timidly,  the  large  tears  dropping  on  her  busy 
needle,  "  I  think  I  would  be  willing  to  work  my  fingers 
to  the  bone."" 

It  will  be  easily  conjectured  that,  in  a  solitude  like 
Bellevue,  the  companionship,  even  of  so  humble  an  indi- 
vidual as  Betsey,  would  be  desirable ;  but,  though  her 
heart  was  in  some  measure  relieved  by  unfolding  its  feel- 
ings, and  by  my  consequent  sympathy,  yet  I  perceived 
her  spirits  droop,  and  determined,  on  our  February  visit 
to  the  city,  to  restore  her  to  her  native  climate.  Since 
that  period  I  have  not  renewed  the  experiment  of  white 
American  servants  at  the  South.  Foreigners,  from  their  ) 
habit  of  looking  up  to  fixed  classes  in  society,  enter 
readily  into  the  peculiarities  of  our  institutions,  and 
therefore  are  better  suited  to  this  office ;  but  experience 
seems  to  have  decided  that  an  attached,  faithful  negro,  is 
a  more  suitable  servant  in  our  portion  of  the  country,  un- 
der existing  institutions,  than  any  other.  It  would  weary 
me  were  I  to  relate  the  instances  which  have  fallen  un- 
der my  observation,  of  devoted  kindness  from  this  class 
of  persons  to  those  by  whom  they  have  been  reared ; 
their  jealousy  of  the  rights  and  reputation  of  their  mas- 
ters ;  their  kindness  in  sickness,  and  the  affectionate 
demonstrations  of  grief  with  which  they  follow  them  to 
the  grave. 


250  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


THE    PLANTERS    BRIDE. 


"  She  sitteth  by  his  chair, 
And  holds  his  feeble  hand  ; 
She  watcheth  ever  there, 

His  wants  to  understand. 
His  yet  unspoken  will 
She  hasteneth  to  fulfil." 

Miss  Bkowne's  "  Woman's  Love." 

"  He  goes  from  her  chamber  straight 
Into  life's  justle  ; 
He  meets  at  the  very  gate 
Business  and  bustle." 

Miss  Browne's  "Man's  Love." 

The  planter's  bride,  who  leaves  a  numerous  and  cheer- 
ful family  in  her  paternal  home,  little  imagines  the  change 
which  awaits  her  in  her  own  retired  residence.  She 
dreams  of  an  independent  sway  over  her  household,  de- 
voted love,  and  unbroken  intercourse  with  her  husband, 
and  indeed  longs  to  be  released  from  the  eyes  of  others, 
that  she  may  dwell  only  beneath  the  sunbeam  of  his. 
And  so  it  was  with  me.  After  our  bustling  wedding  and 
protracted  journey,  I  looked  forward  to  the  retirement  at 
Bellevue  as  a  quiet  port  in  which  I  should  rest  with  Ar- 
thur, after  drifting  so  long  on  general  society.  The  ro- 
mance of  our  love  was  still  in  its  glow,  as  might  be 
inferred  by  the  infallible  sign  of  his  springing  to  pick  up 
my  pocket-handkerchief  whenever  it  fell. 

On  arriving  at  Bellevue,  which  Arthur  had  recently 
purchased,  with  its  standing  furniture,  I  perceived  the 
most  grotesque  arrangement.  Whatever  was  too  old  or 
dilapidated  for  the  city,  the  former  proprietor  had  de- 
spatched into  the  country.  The  furniture  seemed  like 
the  fag-end  of  all  housekeeping  wares.  If  a  table  had 
lost  a  leg,  it  was  banished  to  Bellevue,  where  the  disa- 


SOUTHERN    MATRON-  251 

bled  part  was  supported  by  a  bit  of  hickory  or  pine  ;  the 
mirrors,  which  comprised  all  varieties,  from  heavy  carved 
mahogany  frames  to  gilt  ones,  with  amiable  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses  pictured  at  the  top,  seemed  as  if  the 
queen  of  the  earthquakes  had  been  angered  by  her  own 
reflection,  and  rent  them  in  fissures.  In  one  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  myself  multiplied  almost  indefinitely  ; 
in  another,  an  eye  or  a  nose,  a  forehead  or  a  waist,  was 
severed  in  two  ;  and  in  another,  unless  I  stood  on  tiptoe, 
a  grinning,  unnatural  thing  looked  at  me  above  and  be- 
low the  cracks.  In  one  room  was  an  oldfashioned  sec- 
retary, towering  to  the  ceiling,  where  a  few  wormeaten 
books  leaned  against  each  other,  as  if  for  companionship 
in  their  solitude  ;  while  near  it  was  a  finical  table,  with 
its  defaced  gilding  hidden  by  a  piece  of  faded  green  baize. 
The  sideboard,  which  was  covered  with  rich  silver,  was 
also  set  off  with  tumblers  and  wineglasses  for  all  sizes 
and  fancies  ;  the  andirons,  things  with  long  slender 
stands,  and  Lilliputian  brass  heads  surmounting  their 
slight  bodies,  looked  as  if  they  were  invoking  something 
up  the  large  chimneys  ;  the  bellows  wheezed  as  if  far 
gone  in  the  asthma  ;  the  tongs  lapped  over  with  a  sudden 
spasm,  clutching  tenaciously  the  unoffending  brands ;  if 
I  attempted  to  sweep  the  hearth,  I  was  left  with  the  han- 
dle only  in  my  grasp ;  the  large  glass  shades,  intended 
to  protect  the  candles  from  the  air,  admitted,  like  treach- 
erous allies,  the  enemy  in  at  various  breaches  ;  small  bits 
of  carpet  were  laid  here  and  there  in  the  apartments,  as 
a  kind  of  hint  at  warmth  ;  the  bed-curtains  and  spreads 
were  mostly  patterns  of  gorgeous  birds  and  trees,  but, 
being  imperfectly  matched  in  the  sewing,  a  peacock's 
plumage  was  settled  on  the  neck  of  a  humming-bird,  a 
parrot  seemed  in  the  act  of  eating  his  own  tail,  and  a 
fine  oak  came  sprouting  out  of  a  bird's  nest.  Arthur  was 
infinitely  amused  when  I  called  his  attention  to  the  china, 
which  varied  from  the  finest  Dresden  to  the  common 
crockery  of  the  dram-shops.  The  medley,  in  variety, 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  modern  drawing-room. 

The  harmonious  and  joyous  frame  of  our  minds  ren- 
dered these  things  a  source  of  amusement.     For  several 


252  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

weeks  all  kinds  of  droll  associations  were  conjured  up; 
and  we  laughed  at  anything  and  nothing.  What  cared 
we  for  fashion  and  pretension  1  There  we  were  together, 
asking  for  nothing  but  each  other's  presence  and  love. 
At  length  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  tear  himself  away 
to.  superintend  his  interests.  I  remember  when  his  horse 
was  brought  to  the  door  for  his  first  absence  of  two 
hours  ;  an  observer  would  have  thought  that  he  was  go- 
ing a  far  journey,  had  he  witnessed  that  parting ;  and  so 
it  continued  for  some  days,  and  his  return  at  each  time 
was  like  the  sun  shooting  through  a  three  days'  cloud. 

But  the  period  of  absence  was  gradually  protracted  ; 
then  a  friend  sometimes  came  home  with  him,  and  their 
talk  was  of  crops  and  politics,  draining  the  fields  and 
draining  the  revenue,  until  I  (country  ladies  will  believe 
me)  fell  off  into  a  state  as  nearly  approaching  sleep  as  a 
straight-backed  chair  would  allow.  Arthur,  however, 
rarely  forgot  me  in  conversation  with  others  ;  he  had  the 
art,  in  which  most  men  are  so  entirely  deficient,  of  di- 
recting a  glance  to  a  lady,  while  conversing  with  gentle- 
men on  themes  apparently  uninteresting  to  her — a  glance 
which  seemed  not  only  to  acknowledge  her  presence,  but 
to  pay  defeaence  to  her  thoughts.  He  did  not,  as  is  too 
often  the  case,  forget  that  a  sentient  being  was  without 
companionship  but'  in  him ;  but  seemed  to  feel  what  is 
probably  true,  that  if  women  are  occasionally  asked  for 
their  opinions,  they  may  be  induced  to  look  into  the 
depths  of  their  minds  to  see  if  an  opinion  is  there.  But 
Arthur  had  few  aids  in  this  delicate  mode  of  compli- 
menting ;  after  the  ordinary  questions  were  answered,  I 
was  usually  left  to  ponder  on  the  strip  of  carpet  before 
the  hearth,  and  wonder  why  it  did  not  come  up  to  the 
chairs,  while  my  neighbour  gradually  hitched  himself 
round  with  one  shoulder  towards  me  and  his  forefinger 
on  Arthur's  thigh. 

Arthur  was  a  member  of  a  social  club — but  he  had 
allowed  several  citations  to  pass  unnoticed,  until  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  he  was  slighting  his  friends  ;  I  thought 
so  too,  and  said  so,  without  permitting  the  sigh  to  escape 


SOUTHERN    MATRON,  253 

that  lay  at  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  at  the  idea  of  his 
passing  an  evening  away  from  me. 

"  They  shall  not  keep  me  long  from  you,  my  love,"  he 
said,  as  we  parted  ;  "  I  have  little  joy  without  you." 

But  it  ivas  very  long  to  me.  I  could  bear  to  be  alone 
in  the  morning,  when  I  pursued  various  occupations,  and 
was  even  happy.  When  weary  with  sewing  and  read- 
ing, I  strolled  to  the  poultry-yard,  and  heard  Maum  Nel- 
ly's stories  of  how  twenty  fine  young  turkeys  had  just 
tottled  backward  and  died  so;  or  how  the  minks  and 
chicken-snakes  had  sucked  half  the  fowl-eggs  ;  or  see 
her  stuff  pepper-corns  down  the  young  turkeys'  throats, 
and  pick  the  pip  from  the  old  fowls.  Luckily  for  me, 
I  as  yet  cared  little  for  the  pecuniary  loss,  while  I  really 
enjoyed  the  sight  of  the  healthy  flocks,  as  she  exhibited 
them  with  a  kind  of  maternal  pride,  calling  the  seniors 
by  name.  I  loved  to  hear  the  delicate  peeping  of  the 
little  things,  and  see  how  unselfishly  the  parent  bird  sac- 
rificed the  choicest  morsels  for  them ;  1  loved,  too,  to 
stand  by  the  duck-pond,  and  listen  to  the  plash  as  the  old 
ones  descended  to  the  water,  and  watch  their  proud  and 
happy  look  as  their  offspring  followed  with  instinctive 
power.  I  noted  the  chaste-robed  pea-fowl,  with  its  me- 
tallic-sounding cry,  and  smiled  as  the  strutting  and  va- 
pouring turkey  paraded  in  "  brief  authority." 

Then  I  visited  the  dairy,  which  was  charmingly  situ- 
ated just  where  a  small  creek  entered  among  the  trees. 
A  clear  spring  ran  directly  across  the  stone  floor,  and  a 
fine  spreading  live-oak  shaded  it  above.  I  enjoyed  those 
days  in  the  week  when  the  little  negroes  came  trooping 
along  with  their  piggins  for  milk,  the  largest  bearing  the 
babies  on  their  backs,  and  obtaining  a  double  portion  for 
them. 

There  is  unquestionably  as  much  a  school  of  old  man- 
ners among  the  negroes  as  with  the  whites,  and  Dinah, 
my  dairy-woman,  belonged  to  this  class,  specimens  of 
which  are  rapidly  declining.  Her  reception  of  me  at 
the  dairy  was  more  that  of  a  dignified  hostess  than  a  ser- 
vile dependant,  as,  with  a  low  courtesy  and  wave  of  the 
hand,  she  pointed  to  a  bench  for  me  to  be  seated.  She 
Y 


254  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

belonged  to  the  class,  also  waning,  who  blend  religious 
expressions  and  benedictions  with  their  common  phrase- 
ology. Dinah,  too,  possessed  a  native  humour  and  keen- 
ness that  sometimes  amused  me.  Being  short  in  stat- 
ure, she  asked  me  to  reach  a  calibash,  which  was  set 
aside  on  a  high  shelf  for  my  especial  use  when  I  wished 
a  draught  of  milk. 

"  'Scuse  me,  missis,"  said  she  ;  "  when  tall  was  give, 
I  no  dere." 

Observing  that  she  replied  in  the  affirmative  to  ques- 
tions of  opposite  bearing,  I  asked  her  meaning. 

"  'Scuse  me,  missis,"  she  answered ;  "  I  is  gitting 
hard  o'  hearing,  and  yes  is  more  politer  dan  no." 

Sometimes  I  even  strayed,  for  companionship,  to  the 
potato-fire,  which,  though  in  the  open  air,  was  rarely  ex- 
tinguished, and  usually  found  some  one  roasting  or  eat- 
ing. As  I  lingered  there  one  day,  I  inquired  of  an  old 
man,  who  was  hoeing  his  own  ground,  about  some  work 
neglected  by  the  gardener.  He  rested  on  his  hoe  and 
shook  his  head. 

"  My  missis,"  said  he,  "  you  no  been  hear  'bout  Dick  ?" 

"  No,"  I  answered  ;  "  what  of  him  V 

"  He  disgrace  we  all,"  said  the  old  man,  resuming  his 
work.  "  He  tief  one  sheep — he  run  away  las  week, 
cause  de  overseer  gwine  for  flog  him.  He  an't  desarve 
a  good  maussa,  like  Maussa  Arthur !" 

My  next  walk  was  to  the  sick-house.  Arthur  had  as 
yet  superintended  the  duty  here,  but  it  gradually  became 
my  pleasure  to  assist  him  ;  and,  though  with  some  timid- 
ity, remembering  mamma's  example,  I  prescribed  and 
weighed  the  simplest  medicines,  and  soon  became  inter- 
ested in  the  individuals. 

I  have  said  that  the  morning  passed  slowly,  though 
happily,  even  without  Arthur ;  but  that  club  afternoon 
seemed  interminable.  The  weather  was  mild,  and,  tired 
of  the  house  and  of  sitting  down  to  one  plate,  that  lone- 
liest of  all  positions,  I  again  walked  out  to  enjoy  the  de- 
clining day  and  beguile  the  long  hours.  I  involuntarily 
paused  at  the  frog-pond,  for  there  seemed  a  kind  of  so- 
ciality in  their  voices.     Everything  depends  on  the  mood 


SOUTHERN   MATRON.  255 

ttf  mind.  It  was  but  the  evening  before  that  Arthur  and 
I  had  astonished  the  frogs  by  our  excellent  imitation  of 
their  melodies.  Standing  at  opposite  sides  of  the  little 
pond,  he  took  the  base  and  I  the  treble,  until  we  were 
hoarse  with  shouting  and  laughter ;  now  they  had  a  mel- 
ancholy sound,  and  I  turned  homeward.  At  this  moment 
a  man  slowly  rose  from  the  bushes  near,  and  looked 
about  carefully.  I  discerned  in  him  Dick,  the  runaway. 
He  looked  haggard,  and,  approaching  with  an  humble 
air,  confessed  his  fault,  and  begged  my  intercession  with 
his  master  to  allow  him  to  return  once  more  to  his  duties. 
I  undertook  the  office,  and  the  next  day  he  was  permitted 
to  go  into  the  field. 

The  house  seemed  so  deserted,  that,  though  half 
ashamed  of  my  own  want  of  energy  and  mental  control, 
I  walked  to  the  piazza.  I  was  glad  of.  the  salute  of  the 
last  lingering  labourers  on  their  way  from  the  fields  ;  I 
listened  to  the  swineherd's  horn,  and  saw  his  uncouth 
group  at  a  distance,  turning  towards  their  pen  ;  the  shep- 
herd came  next,  with  his  more  romantic  charge,  and  I 
enticed  them,  by  throwing  corn  from  the  piazza,  to  bear 
me  company  a  little  while  ;  but  they  soon  followed  the 
shepherd  as  he  called,  individually,  their  well-known 
names.  Then  came  the  ducks,  whose  wings  were  un- 
cut, flying  from  a  neighbouring  field  to  seek  their  night's 
shelter,  sweeping  below  the  deep-tinged  sky  with  flap- 
ping wings  and  happy  screams.  The  sun  shot  up  his 
last  rays  on  the  twilight  clouds  ;  the  crows  wheeled 
from  the  field  to  the  forest ;  the  whippoorwill's  cry, 
which  the  hum  of  day  had  stifled,  came  clearly  and  sol- 
emnly on  the  air ;  the  young  moon  rose  with  her  slight 
crescent,  and  rapid  darkness  followed.  I  returned  to  the 
pariour,  pushed  together  the  brands  on  the  hearth,  threw 
on  lightwood  myself,  though  two  servants  stood  waiting 
by,  and  at  length  heard  a  footstep.  It  was  Arthur's ;  I 
sprang  towards  him,  and  we  had  as  much  to  say  as  if  he 
had  been  to  India. 

This  club-engagement,  however,  brought  on  others.  I 
was  not  selfish,  and  even  urged  Arthur  to  go  to  hunt  and 
to  dinner-parties,  although  hoping  that  he  would  resist 


256  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

my  urging.  He  went  frequently,  and  a  growing  discom- 
fort began  to  work  upon  my  mind.  I  had  undefined  fore- 
bodings ;  I  mused  about  past  days  ;  my  views  of  life 
became  slowly  disorganized  ;  my  physical  powers  enfee- 
bled ;  a  nervous  excitement  followed ;  I  nursed  a  moody 
discontent,  and  ceased  a  while  to  reason  clearly.  Wo 
to  me  had  I  yielded  to  this  irritable  temperament !  I 
began  immediately,  on  principle,  to  busy  myself  about  my 
household.  The  location  of  Bellevue  was  picturesque — 
the  dwelling  airy  and  commodious  ;  I  had,  therefore,  only 
to  exercise  taste  in  external  and  internal  arrangement  to 
make  it  beautiful  throughout.  I  was  careful  to  consult 
my  husband  in  those  points  which  interested  him,  with- 
out annoying  him  with  mere  trifles.  If  the  reign  of  ro- 
mance was  really  waning,  I  resolved  not  to  chill  his  no- 
ble confidence,  but  to  make  a  steadier  light  rise  on  his 
affections.  If  he  was  absorbed  in  reading,  I  sat  quietly 
waiting  the  pause  when  I  should  be  rewarded  by  the 
communication  of  ripe  ideas ;  if  I  saw  that  he  prized  a 
tree  which  interfered  with  my  flowers,  I  sacrificed  my 
preference  to  a  more  sacred  feeling ;  if  any  habit  of  his 
annoyed  me,  I  spoke  of  it  once  or  twice  calmly,  and  then 
bore  it  quietly  if  unreformed ;  I  welcomed  his  friends 
with  cordiality,  entered  into  their  family  interests,  and 
stopped  my  yawns,  which,  to  say  the  truth,  was  some- 
times an  almost  desperate  effort,  before  they  reached  eye 
or  ear. 

This  task  of  self-government  was  not  easy.  To  re- 
press a  harsh  answer,  to  confess  a  fault,  and  to  stop 
(right  or  wrong)  in  the  midst  of  self-defence,  in  gentle 
submission,  sometimes  requires  a  struggle  like  life  and 
death ;  but  these  three  efforts  are  the  golden  threads 
with  which  domestic  happiness  is  woven ;  once  begin 
the  fabric  with  this  woof,  and  trials  shall  not  break  or 
sorrow  tarnish  it. 

Men  are  not  often  unreasonable ;  their  difficulties  lie 
in  not  understanding  the  moral  and  physical  structure  of 
our  sex.  They  often  wound  through  ignorance,  and  are 
surprised  at  having  offended.  How  clear  is  it,  then,  that 
woman  loses  by  petulance  and  recrimination  !     Her  first 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  257 

study  must  be  self-control,  almost  to  hypocrisy.  A  good 
"wife  must  smile  amid  a  thousand  perplexities,  and  clear 
her  voice  to  tones  of  cheerfulness  when  her  frame  is 
drooping  with  disease,  or  else  languish  alone.  Man,  on 
the  contrary,  when  trials  beset  him,  expects  to  find  her 
ear  and  heart  a  ready  receptacle  ;  and,  when  sickness 
assails  him,  her  soft  hand  must  nurse  and  sustain  him. 

I  have  not  meant  to  suggest  that,  in  ceasing  to  be  a 
mere  lover,  Arthur  was  not  a  tender  and  devoted  hus- 
band. I  have  only  described  the  natural  progress  of  a 
sensible,  independent  married  man,  desirous  of  fulfilling 
all  the  relations  of  society.  Nor  in  these  remarks  would 
I  chill  the  romance  of  some  young  dreamer,  who  is  repo- 
sing her  heart  on  another.  Let  her  dream  on.  God  has 
given  this  youthful,  luxurious  gift  of  trusting  love,  as  he 
has  given  hues  to  the  flower  and  sunbeams  to  the  sky. 
It  is  a  superadded  charm  to  his  lavish  blessings ;  but  let 
her  be  careful  that  when  her  husband 

"  Wakes  from  love^  romantic  dream, 
His  eyes  may  open  on  a  sweet  esteem." 

Let  him  know  nothing  of  the  struggle  which  follows 
the  first  chill  of  the  affections  ;  let  no  scenes  of  tears  and 
apologies  be  acted  to  agitate  him,  until  he  becomes  ac- 
customed to  agitation ;  thus  shall  the  star  of  domestic 
peace  arise  in  fixedness  and  beauty  above  them,  and 
shine  down  in  gentle  light  on  their  lives,  as  it  has  on 
ours. 

Y3 


* 


258  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

TRIAL  OP  MY  PRINCIPLE. MY  NEW  CARRIAGE. MY  GARDEN. 

"  If  we  read  nature's  book  with  a  serious  eye, 
Not  a  leaf,  but  some  precious  thought  on  it  doth  lie  : 
And  'tis  good  to  go  forth  among  scenes  like  these, 
Amid  music  and  sunshine,  and  flowers  and  trees, 
If  'twere  only  to  waken  the  deep  love  that  springs 
At  the  sight  of  all  lovely  and  innocent  things." 

Anna  Maria  Wells. 

Arthur  and  I,  as  the  period  drew  near  for  our  town 
visit,  began  to  discuss  the  subject  of  a  new  carriage. 
Long  and  frequent  were  the  debates  with  regard  to  the 
colour,  shape,  and  ornaments ;  and  this,  perhaps,  is  one 
evil  of  a  country  life,  that  it  makes  us  attach  a  dispro- 
portionate interest  to  trifles.  I  inclined  to  a  fawn-colour, 
Arthur  to  deep  green.  He  preferred  a  coachman's  box ; 
I  desired  an  open  front,  that  he  might  sometimes  take 
the  reins.  The  contest  once  or  twice  rose  pretty  high. 
I  came  down  to  breakfast  one  morning  with  a  frown,  and 
a  determined,  if  not  sullen,  taciturnity,  and  Arthur  rode 
away  a  half  an  hour  earlier  than  usual.  This  brought 
me  to  a  recollection  of  my  principle  of  self-sacrifice  in 
trifles,  and  I  was  enabled  to  meet  my  husband  with  a 
smile,  and  say,  on  his  return — 

"  On  the  whole,  Arthur,  I  think  your  deep  green  will 
be  the  best  colour  for  the  carriage.     It  will  wear  well." 

"  Ah,  well,  dearest,"  said  he,  tenderly  smoothing  down 
a  curl  on  my  forehead,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  and  I  be- 
gin to  incline  to  the  open  front.  I  shall  often  wish  to  be 
independent  and  drive  you  myself." 

Everything  now  seemed  to  be  going  on  smoothly, 
when,  in  looking  over  Arthur's  letters  one  day  in  an  old 
chest,  I  found  the  Marion  coat  of  arms.  It  seemed  to 
me  a  perfect  piece  of  good  fortune.  Under  what  class 
our  arms  came,  whether  of  pretension,  of  concession,  of 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  259 

succession,  of  assumption,  or  of  family,  I  could  not  tell. 
I  only  thought  that  the  dots  and  diagonal  lines,  and  some- 
thing that  looked  like  two  swords  crossed,  would  have  a 
very  pretty  effect  on  the  carriage,  and,  as  soon  as  Arthur 
came  in,  ran  and  told  him.  I  know  not  exactly  why,  but 
the  subject  struck  him  in  a  most  ludicrous  light ;  so  far 
from  entering  into  my  views,  he  took  the  paper  in  his 
hand  and  proposed  comical  substitutes  that  would  be  in 
better  keeping — cotton-bags  coupe,  sweet  potatoes  vert, 
alligators  dormant,  shrimps  gules,  and  terapins  couchant ; 
and,  running  every  change  which  his  vivid  fancy  could 
furnish,  he  ended  with  a  long,  loud  laugh,  that  went  tin- 
gling through  my  ears  and  irritating  my  system  to  the 
very  soles  of  my  feet. 

Every  observer  of  human  nature  must  have  perceived, 
that  lovers  not  only  do  not  exercise  the  power  of  ridicule 
over  each  other,  but  they  cannot  conceive  that  the  idol 
of  their  imaginations  should  be  the  subject  of  it.  As  in- 
tercourse in  marriage  becomes  familiar,  and  the  little 
graces  of  etiquette  are  laid  aside,  the  idol,  though  not 
less  worshipped,  becomes  less  sacred.  She  is  not  the 
deity  of  the  temple,  but  of  the  household ;  she  is  no 
longer  the  great  Diana  of  Ephesus,  approached  at  a  dis- 
tance with  mysterious  rites,  but  one  of  the  Lares,  meet- 
ing the  familiar  glance  at  every  turn.  This  d  ifference  is 
never  felt  so  keenly  by  a  woman,  as  when  she  first  dis- 
covers that  it  is  possible  for  her  to  appear  ridiculous  to 
her  husband.  A  man  who  differs  from  his  wife  and  rea- 
sons with  her,  rather  elevates  her  self-love  ;  but,  the  mo- 
ment he  laughs  at  her,  she  feels  that  the  golden  bowl  of 
married  sympathy  is  broken. 

How  many  kinds  of  laughter  there  are  !  The  first 
clear,  sweet  notes  of  the  infant,  like  the  soft  tinkling  of  a 
silver  bell ;  the  child's  laugh,  with  voice  and  mind  gush- 
ing out  like  a  fountain ;  the  maiden's  laugh,  when  sensi- 
bility touches  her  tones  like  music  ;  the  rich,  manly 
laugh,  when  wit  goes  to  the  recesses  of  intellect,  and 
brings  out  its  echoes ;  the  girl's  giggle  behind  her  fan ; 
the  old  man's  laugh  of  habit,  that  sounds  like  the  wind 
through  an  empty  house;  the  maniac's  laugh,  sad  and 


$60  RECOLLECTIONS    OP    A 

dreary  as  the  last  leaf  on  a  withered  tree ;  the  parrot's 
laugh,  calling  out  and  yet  repelling  sympathy  with  its 
natural  unnaturalness.     Arthur's  was  like  none  of  these 
at  the  moment  of  which  I  speak  ;  it  was  one  brought  out 
by  a  sense  of  the  ridiculous  ;  and  if  a  sister,  or  wife,  or 
child  can  stand  quietly  by  and  hear  such  a  one,  she  ought 
to  be  immortalized.     I  did  not.     I  sat  down  deliberately 
and  had  a  hearty  cry,  notwithstanding  my  principle.     Poor 
Arthur,  who  had  never  thought  about  all  this,  and  fancied 
I  was  enjoying  his  jests,  was  dismayed.     He  clasped  me 
in  his  arms,  apologized  with  all  the  tenderness  and  sin- 
cerity of  his  nature,  and  I  never  heard  that  laugh  again. 
I  was,  in  the  sequel,  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  airy 
and  elegant  carriage,  entered  into  the  city  amusements 
with  animation,  went  through  a  February  campaign  with 
eclat,  and  had  no  wishes  ungratified  that  wealth  could 
procure.      Letters  of  introduction  were  poured  in  upon 
us  from  all  quarters,  and  we  were  glad  and  proud  to  be 
hospitable. 

I  was  prepared  one  morning  to  call  on  a  stranger, 
when  visiters  were  announced  ;  and,  glancing  round  the 
drawing-room,  I  perceived  on  the  sofa  a  ratan,  which 
had  been  brought  in  by  one  of  my  young  brothers.  I 
caught  it  up,  and,  twisting  it  in  a  coil,  thrust  it  into  my 
velvet  reticule,  and  received  my  guests.  As  soon  as 
they  departed  I  sprang  into  the  carriage,  which  was  in 
waiting,  and  drove  away.  The  ladies  were  at  home.  In 
the  course  of  conversation  I  unthinkingly  drew  my  scented 
pocket-handkerchief  from  my  bag,  when  out  flew  the  ratan 
with  a  bound,  and  rolled  to  the  feet  of  the  stranger.  My 
deep  and  inextinguishable  blush  probably  helped  on  any 
uncharitable  surmises  that  she  might  have  made,  and 
who  can  blame  her,  after  such  evidence,  for  reporting 
that  Charleston  ladies  carried  cowskins  in  their  pockets ! 
I  was  the  personation  of  benevolence  in  my  new  car- 
riage, and  unaffectedly  enjoyed  the  pleasure  I  conferred ; 
yet  every  happiness  has  its  alloy.  If  an  acquaintance 
expected  a  friend  at  the  wharves,  Mrs.  Marion's  carriage 
was  sent  for  and  detained  half  the  day ;  I  was  kept  the 
very  latest  of  the  company  at  parties  and  balls,  because 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  261 

my  carriage  had  so  many  turns  to  make ;  when  invalids 
arrived  in  the  city  my  carriage  was  borrowed,  and  the 
credit  went  to  the  borrower,  not  to  me.  A  child  of  one 
lady  was  allowed  to  rub  its  sugar  candy  over  the  fine 
cloth  linings,  and  another  preferred  standing  on  the  cush- 
ions to  sitting  down.  Some  fair  rioters  broke  a  glass 
returning  crowded  from  a  ball ;  one  of  my  horses  took 
cold  by  being  overheated  in  a  long  drive  out  of  town; 
another  was  injured  by  being  delayed  until  twelve  at  a 
party,  which  the  borrower  said  would  break  up  at  nine ; 
my  best  coachman  became  chilled,  irritable,  and  at  length 
intemperate ;  and  what  capped  the  climax  was  a  remark 
from  my  most  frequent  borrower,  that  she  was  surprised 
that  Mrs.  Marion  could  sport  such  a  shabby  carriage  with 

a  drunken  coachman ! 

****** 

I  found  a  small  but  favourable  gardening-spot  attached 
to  our  city  residence,  and  a  taste  for  the  beautiful,  which 
can  always  touch  the  humblest  spot  with  grace,  did  not 
allow  me  to  let  it  go  to  waste.  The  mere  aspect  of  a 
bud  or  flower,  without  a  higher  association,  is  so  pure 
and  soothing  to  the  lover  of  nature,  that  it  repays  the 
glance  which  bends  over  its  daily  growth ;  and  I  envy 
not  him  who  can  look  coldly  on  a  blade  shooting  from  its 
unsightly  seed  into  verdure,  the  sacred  and  startling  em- 
blem of  that  mortal  which  is  to  put  on  immortality. 

And  how  much  of  the  poetry  of  life  springs  from  flow- 
ers !  How  delicate  a  pleasure  is  it  to  twine  the  orange- 
blossom  or  japonica  for  the  bride — to  arrange  a  bouquet 
for  the  invalid — to  throw  simple  flowers  into  the  lap  of 
childhood — and  to  pull  rosebuds  for  the  girl  of  whom 
they  are  the  emblem  ! 

But  gardens  are  not  all  poetry  :  witness  the  long-drawn 
countenance  of  the  lady  whose  delicious  geraniums  are 
crumbled  to  yellow  weeds  by  the  frost ;  witness  the 
housewife, Whose  imagination  has  sprung  forward  to  the 
moment  when  her  savoury  cabbages  shall  enter  on  her 
dinner-table,  as  fit  companions  to  boiled  pork  or  beef, 
when  she  visits  her  garden,  and  finds  that  a  hard-hearted 
fowl  has  deliberately  picked  the  plants  up  by  the  roots, 


282  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

rifled  their  green  leaves,  and  left  only  withered  relics ; 
witness  the  gentleman  who  has  watched  his  rigs  and 
grapes  with  such  interest  that  even  the  daily  paper  has 
been  laid  aside  to  note  their  development,  when  he  finds 
that  the  insects,  with  keener  instinct  than  himself,  have 
seized  upon  the  ripe  subjects  and  rifled  their  very  cores ! 

There  are  other  mortifications,  that,  seem  petty  in  de- 
tail, but  which  inflict  a  real  pang  on  the  florist.  How 
often  have  I  spent  hours  of  culture  on  a  rare  blossom, 
and  presented  it  as  a  valuable  gift,  seen  it  received  with 
smiles  and  thanks,  and  then  observed  the  thoughtless  re- 
cipient crumple  up  the  leaves  in  her  fingers,  or  pull  and 
throw  them  on  the  floor,  or  deliberately  chew  them ! 

Sometimes  individuals  have  visited  my  garden  and 
gathered  flowers  which  have  cost  me  not  only  time  and 
labour,  but  heavy  pecuniary  sums,  as  unconcernedly  as 
they  would  a  blade  of  grass  ;  sometimes,  when  I  have 
cherished  a  little  slip  until  it  has  shown  signs  of  inde- 
pendent existence,  a  considerate  lady  has  begged  me  for 
a  cutting ! 

Other  vexations,  too,  occur,  on  which  the  florist  does 
not  calculate  when  she  yields  up  her  heart  to  flowers. 
An  Englishman  presented  me  with  four  seeds,  on  the  en- 
velope of  which  was  written  an  almost  unpronounceable 
name,  long  and  imposing.  I  was  never  selfish,  and,  in 
the  warmth  of  my  heart,  gave  two  to  botanists.  I  planted 
mine,  and  watched  them  day  by  day.  At  last  they  came 
up,  and,  with  the  pride  of  a  florist,  I  carried  my  friends 
to  see  the  first  leaves.  At  length  they  grew,  they  bud- 
ded, they  blossomed — and  behold,  they  were  common 
four-o'clocks  ! 

A  botanist  from  Georgia  favoured  me  with  two  fine 
bulbs  of  the  delicate  Iris  Persica.  I  valued  them  highly 
for  their  giver's  sake  as  well  as  their  own,  and  planted 
them  with  care  and  hope.  A  few  mornings  after,  a  little 
negro  waiting-boy  ran  into  the  house  exclaiming — 

"  Oh,  missis,  de  cat  pull  you  inion  out  of  de  jar !" 

A  friend  of  mine,  however,  was  still  more  unfortunate 
in  having  a  dish  of  Prince's  best  bulbs  boiled  for  dinner  ! 

Yet  all  these  things  will  not  rebuff  the  true  lover  of 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  263 

nature.  She  will  enjoy  the  sparkling  bud  in  the  morn- 
ing's ray,  and  love  the  perfume  as  daylight  dies ;  and  a 
moral  freshness  will  settle  over  her  thoughts  like  heaven's 
dew,  as  she  traces  the  hand  of  Providence  in  her  flowers. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

A    MOTHER.— THE    CONCLUSION. 

"  To  teach  rooted  sorrow  the  lesson  of  submission  ;  to  succour  TO 
tue  amid  mighty  temptations ;  to  dispel  the  awful  sadness  of  the  in- 
evitable hour ;  these  are  the  victories  of  the  Christain  faith ;  the 
grand,  and  peculiar,  and  imperishable  evidences  of  its  power." — Pro- 
fessor Goddahd. 

Our  country  solitude  was  made  glad  by  the  birth  of  a 
son,  and  my  parents  were  with  me  to  heighten  my  joy 
and  gratitude.  On  no  other  occasion  does  a  woman's 
heart  open  so  sweetly  to  sympathy  as  when,  clasping 
her  first  infant  to  her  breast,  she  feels  that  she  has  added, 
with  tremour  and  suffering,  another  link  to  that  human 
chain  which,  descending  from  heaven,  will  reach  to  heav- 
en again.  There  is  something  still  inexpressibly  affect- 
ing to  me  in  infancy,  in  its  earliest  stage,  before  will  has 
put  forth  its  impertinent  little  feelers.  I  love  to  take  the 
tiny  hand,  which  almost  melts  in  its  fragility,  in  mine, 
and  press  the  unconscious  cheek,  and  see  the  pulses  of 
the  protecting  lid  that  covers  the  still  unopened  eyes. 
Papa  was  in  raptures.  His  natural  hilarity  burst  forth 
into  almost  boyish  frolic.  He  thrust  a  ramrod  between 
the  fingers  of  the  frail  little  thing,  threw  a  powder-horn 
round  his  neck,  and  sang  hunting  choruses  until  I  was 
obliged  to  stop  my  ears. 

No  other  state  of  society  can  show  a  scene  like  that 
which  was  presented  at  Bellevue  on  the  third  Sabbath 
after  the  birth  of  our  son.  All  the  negroes,  dressed  in 
their  best,  came  to  welcome  their  young  maussa,  bring- 
ing offerings  of  eggs   and   chickens,  and   pronouncing 


264  RECOLLECTIONS    OF   A 

prayers  and  blessings  as  the  unconscious  sleeper,  deco» 
rated,  too,  in  his  little  finery,  lay  in  his  nurse's  arms. 

The  child  grew,  and  called  up  in  Arthur  and  myself  a 
new  fount  of  affection  for  him  and  for  each  other.  Why 
should  I  detail  what  millions  have  felt  and  described  ? 
and  yet  I  may,  for  infancy,  like  flowers,  is  always  fresh. 
I  may  tell  how,  as  he  rested  in  my  arms,  before  expres- 
sion began  to  mould  his  features,  imagination  traced  the 
mind  that  would  come  and  light  it  as  a  torch  the  vase, 
which  owes  its  chief  beauty  to  the  flame  within.  I  may 
tell  how  Arthur  left  me  late  and  returned  early,  while 
the  romance  of  first  love  seemed  renewed  ;  how  we 
hung  together  over  the  boy's  little  crib,  and  laid  our  ears 
near  the  sleeper's  mouth,  fearing  in  his  soft  stillness  that 
he  breathed  not ;  I  may  tell,  at  least  to'  mothers,  how  I 
gazed  at  his  first  smile,  listened  to  his  first  laugh,  sup- 
ported his  first  footstep,  and  made  him  repeat  again  and 
again  his  first  word,  and  how  his  being  shone  like  a  new 
planet  on  Arthur's  life  and  mine. 

Our-  little  Arthur  was  a  miniature  likeness  of  his 
father  ;  on  that  full  brow,  in  those  dark  eyes,  I  loved  to 
trace  my  husband's  image.  For  the  first  two  years  of 
his  life,  until  the  birth  of  a  little  girl,  I  thought,  as  is  the 
case  with  most  American  mothers,  of  little  else  but  him  ; 
and  even  after  that  event,  the  child's  companionship  was 
everything  to  me.  He  was  precociously  musical,  and  I 
taught  him  many  nursery  songs.  At  the  age  of  three 
years,  secluded  as  we  were  in  the  country  in  winter,  I 
felt  it  a  privilege  to  let  him  fall  asleep  in  my  arms. 
When  he  became  drowsy,  he  ran  instinctively  towards 
me,  sprang  into  my  lap,  and  began  to  sing.  The  notes 
gradually  grew  fainter,  like  the  voices  of  birds  in  a  twi- 
light forest — then,  starting  up  afresh,  he  smiled  and  sang 
until  his  lids  closed  over  his  dark  eyes  like  a  moon- 
tinged  cloud  on  the  night  sky  ;  and  thus  it  was,  with  song 
and  smile,  that  sometimes,  in  the  midst  of  a  word,  con- 
sciousness forsook  him,  and  the  mantle  of  sleep  folded 
his  little  spirit.  One  night  he  was  reposing  thus  in  my 
arms  when  Arthur  came  home.  He  knelt  down  before 
us,  clasped  his  arms  around  us,  laid  his  lips  against  the 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  265 

rosy  cheek  of  the  boy,  and  sighed  in  the  very  fulness  of 
his  love. 

That  night  we  were  awoke  with  the  struggling  sound 
of  the  croup,  which  has  so  often  sent  a  aeath-chill  to  a 
mother's  heart.  The  night  passed  in  wild  and  fearful 
struggles  on  his  part,  and  desperate  yet  unceasing  efforts 
on  ours  ;  medical  aid  arrived  early  the  following  day, 
but  the  boy  was  dying.  He  knew  me^iot;  his  glazed 
eye  was  upward  and  away  from  mine  ;  his  hand,  now  tos- 
sing and  restless,  and  then,  as  life  quivered,  feeble  and 
helpless,  returned  not  my  pressure,  that  sought  for  life 
and  feeling  with  maddened  eagerness. 

He  died ;  I  caught  the  last  flutter  of  his  breath,  felt 
the  coldness"  of  death  gather  on  his  hand,  still  full  and 
beautiful  as  the  artist's  dream  of  a  cherub. 

I  was  borne  to  my  room,  and  Arthur  followed  to  com- 
fort me,  himself  despairing.  Night  drew  on  rapidly. 
Oh,  that  first  night  of  bereavement  !  how  coldly  and 
darkly  settle  its  shades  over  breaking  hearts  ! 

Arthur  slept,  and  at  midnight  I  arose  to  visit  my  boy. 

He  was  laid  on  his  little  couch,  and  the  negro 
watchers  were  singing  hymns  over  him. 

I  tried  to  touch  his  deathly  brow  and  hand ;  I  could 
not ;  he  seemed  no  longer  mine. 

The  moon  shone  with  strange  brightness  into  the  win- 
dow, almost  obscuring  the  single  lamp  that  flickered  in 
the  aired  and  chill  apartment ;  and  lighting  up  with  su- 
pernatural vividness  the  face  of  the  dead,  brought  out  in 
wild  relief  the  dark  forms  around  him. 

How  differently  that  soft  planet  rises  on  different 
eyes !  The  child  looks  on  its  beauty  like  a  plaything, 
and  claps  its  hands  in  joy  ;  the  young  girl  cherishes  its 
sweet,  mysterious  rays,  and  images,  dearer  and  more 
tender,  pour  their  light  on  her  romantic  spirit ;  the  trav- 
eller blesses  it  on  his  way,  and  thinks  of  eyes  softer  and 
brighter  than  its  beams  at  home  ;  the  husbandman  proph- 
esies in  its  silver  radiance  sunshine  for  the  morrow  ; 
the  lover,  like  the  Pythagorean,  fixes  his  earnest  eye  on 
the  glittering  orb,  longing  to  trace  there  the  thought  of  a 
dear  one  and  inscribe  his  own ;  and  the  astronomer 
Z 


£66  RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A 

gazes  on  the  beautiful  glory  in  scientific  pride  ;  but  alas, 
for  me,  on  that  night  it  rose  like  a  separate  ball  of  lire, 
without  blending  or  harmony.  There  was  no  light  on 
earth ;  nature  was  chaotic.  I  saw  but  one  object,  the 
dead  form  of  my  boy,  stiff  and  cold,  unsmiling,  unan- 
swering. 

My  kind  women  looked  at  me  pityingly,  and  were  elo- 
quent with  their  simple  religious  consolation.  They 
were  idle  words  to  me.  God  had  struck  the  rock  of  my 
soul,  but  the  blow  had  hardened  it.  The  waters  gushed 
not  forth.  Arthur  still  slept ;  men  can  sleep.  I  went 
hurriedly  and  sought  the  materials  for  a  shroud,  and  sat 
down  by  my  boy,  and  some  wild  association  made  me 
bind  the  white  ribands  from  my  bridal  dress  on  his  last 
garment. 

I  could  not  look  at  him,  and  yet  his  image  was  indefi- 
nitely multiplied ;  wherever  I  turned  then,  and  for 
weeks  after,  amid  sunshine  or  darkness,  by  the  social 
hearth  or  in  the  solitude  of  my  chamber,  all  was  dark- 
ness, except  where  luminous  points  shone  on  a  dead 
child. 

We  carried  our  boy  to  Roseland,  and  deposited  his 
precious  remains  at  Cedar  Mound.  It  stormed  that 
night  after  he  was  laid  in  his  cold  bed.  I  shuddered ; 
the  change  was  too  horrible  between  my  loving  arms 
and  that  pelting  rain.  I  asked  why  God  could  not  have 
translated  his  cherub  form  to  heaven  1  I  could  have 
borne  his  happy,  upward  flight,  and  waved  my  hand  to 
him  as  in  an  earthly  parting,  when  the  white  clouds 
opened  to  take  him  in  ;  and  I  would  have  fancied  that 
young  mellifluous  voice  chanting  its  new-born  tones, 
and  the  sweet  surprise  of  his  unclosing  gaze  ;  but  to 
leave  him  there  !  Father  in  Heaven ;  thou  hast  par- 
doned the  rebellion  of  a  heart  in  its  first  gush  of  grief ! 

The  sympathy  of  my  parents  was  consoling  ;  but  I 
missed  my  boy  on  his  grandfather's  knee,  and  his  prattle 
by  his  grandfather's  side.  In  the  restlessness  of  my 
soul  I  returned  to  Bellevue.  Everything  had  been  re- 
moved that  could  remind  me  of  him.  His  little  hat  and 
cloak  hung  no  more  in  the  passage  ;  his  barrow  and  whip 


SOUTHERN    MATRON.  267 

were  gone  from  the  garden-path ;  his  carved  alphabet  no 
longer  strewed  the  floor,  nor  did  his  disfigured  toy-books 
meet  my  eye  ;  all  was  dreary  order  and  decorum  ;  but, 
with  all  their  care,  could  they  prevent  his  graceful  image 
from  haunting  those  familiar  scenes  1  How  often  did  I 
hear  his  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  his  shout  in  the  court- 
yard !  How  often  fancy  his  arms  about  my  neck,  and 
feel  his  eager  kisses  on  my  cheek  !  How  often  did  I 
press  my  struggling  heart  and  cry,  "  My  son  !  my  son  ! 
would  to  God  I  had  died  for  thee  !" 

Arthur  watched  my  feelings  tenderly.  He  sat  by  me 
hour  by  hour,  silently,  but  with  looks  that  said,  "  My 
poor  stricken  one  !  The  storm  has  dealt  hardly  with 
thee,  but  flowers  will  not  grow  unless  water  and  winds 
descend  as  well  as  sunshine.  I  will  be  very  patient,  and 
hold  my  heart  all  ready  for  thee,  when  thy  love  and  hope 
shall  ask  for  their  accustomed  nest." 

What  an  education  poor  humanity  requires  to  train  it 
for  Heaven !  I  had  thought  myself  religious,  and  yet, 
when  God  took  back  the  gift  he  had  bestowed,  a  gift 
that  had  brightened  my  being  for  three  happy  years,  I 
could  not  bless  him  for  the  past  joy.  My  rebellious 
spirit  charged  even  Heaven  with  injustice. 

Arthur's  unwearied  love,  my  little  Anna's  caresses, 
and  the  softening  hand  of  time,  slowly  wrought  their 
sweet  and  natural  influence.  I  began  not  to  look  exclu- 
sively on  the  grave  ;  I  listened  as  the  buds  of  spring  told 
their  beautiful  story  of  a  new-clothed  soul ;  I  loved  to 
think  that  the  chill  feel  of  earth  was  giving  place  to  the 
flowers  that  began  to  gem  my  darling's  distant  bed  ;  and, 
as  time  passed  on,  I  forgot  the  flowers  of  earth,  and 
thought  only  of  heaven's  garden,  where  my  boy  was 
waiting  for  me  to  come.  Death,  since  my  first  bereave- 
ment, has  never  borne  the  same  aspect.  I  have  lost  a 
gentle  girl,  and  let  her  pass  quietly,  with  scarce  a  tear 
on  her  grave  ;  my  thoughts  went  upward  to  ray  growing 
family  above.  I  could  bear  to  look  on  the  soft  curl  that 
had  lain  on  her  brow,  and  fold  the  garments  that  had 
clothed  her  living  form. 

My  mother  followed ;  1  fancied  the  meeting  between 


268  RECOLLECTIONS,    ETC. 

her  and  my  cherub  children,  and  did  not  ask  her  back  to 
a  world  where  she  could  die  again.  I  closed  Richard's 
eyes  of  love,  and  my  heart  said,  "  God's  will  be  done." 

Long  and  refreshing,  when  my  mind  became  calm, 
were  my  conversations  with  Arthur  on  the  death  of  our 
boy. 

"We  had  commenced  a  bright  career,  dearest,"  he 
said  ;  "  who  knows  but  the  world  might  have  engrossed 
us,  and  made  us  sell  our  heavenly  birthright  1  Our  so- 
cial pleasures  will  hereafter  be  modified  by  higher  hopes. 
We  have  never  given  our  public  testimony  to  Christian- 
ity ;  let  us  go,  beloved  ;  let  us  plant  this  seed  of  immor- 
tality. Our  precious  boy  rushed  like  a  fresh  fountain, 
and  emptied  himself  in  his  first  purity  into  the  ocean  of 
eternity  ;  but  we  are  checked  and  clogged  by  earthly  ob- 
stacles, and  must  ask  for  aid  to  clear  the  onward  stream, 
that  it  may  reflect  heaven  from  its  bosom.  Christian  or- 
dinances are  noble  aids  ;  they  degrade  no  lofty  associa- 
tion, they  wither  no  social  affections,  but,  like  the  sup- 
ports to  the  failing  arms  of  the  prophet  of  old,  they  lift 
up  our  souls  until  our  earthly  fight  is  won." 

We  went  together  to  fulfil  the  command  of  Jesus.  I 
do  not  say  that  any  mysterious  power  was  communicated 
to  elevate  us  above  human  nature  ;  but  still  I  feel  that, 
from  time  to  time,  after  the  self-examination  of  those 
holy  hours,  a  truer  zest  is  given  to  social  happiness,  a 
juster  feeling  of  duty,  and  a  clearer  sense  of  our  rela- 
tions as  immortals. 


NOTE 


It  seems  a  favourable  opportunity  to  insert,  rather  in  the  form  of  a 
note  than  as  connected  with  the  narrative,  the  following  sketch, 
which  describes,  among  other  points  connected  with  negroes  in 
Charleston,  their  funeral  solemnities. 

RELIGIOUS  PRIVILEGES  OF  THE  NEGROES  IN 
CHARLESTON,  S.  C. 

Not  more  than  seven  can  be  legally  collected,  except  under  the 
auspices  of  a  white  person  ;  it  is  therefore  necessary  that  a  few  indi- 
viduals should  interest  themselves  to  procure  the  means  of  social 
private  worship  for  these  ignorant  but  devotional  people. 

The  coloured  members  of  every  church  in  Charleston,  without  ex- 
ception, are  divided  into  classes,  each  of  which  has  a  superintendent 
chosen  from  its  own  number,  who  is  proposed  to  the  clergyman  for 
his  approbation.  Sometimes  a  license  or  certificate  is  given  by  the 
pastor,  after  an  examination  into  the  qualifications  and  character  of 
this  individual ;  but  a  verbal  permission  is  all  that  is  necessary  to 
constitute  him  what  is  denominated  a  class-leader. 

It  is  the  office  of  a  class-leader  to  assemble  those  under  his  charge 
once  or  twice  a  week,  usually  on  the  Sabbath,  before  or  after  ser- 
vice, and  instruct  them  in  their  Christian  duties.  He  reads  a  lesson 
from  the  Bible,  gives  out  hymns  in  the  primitive  style,  in  portions  of 
two  lines  at  a  time,  and  exhorts  them  according  to  the  form  best 
suited  to  his  taste  and  range  of  intellect.  Their  manner,  throughout 
these  exercises,  is  a  decided  imitation  of  the  Methodists. 

The  leader  inspects  the  moral  conduct  of  his  class,  allowing  none 
to  attend  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  who  are  in  the  known 
indulgence  of  sin.  Should  he  discover  any  immorality  in  a  church 
member,  it  is  his  business  to  inform  his  pastor,  who  will  call  the  ac- 
cused to  an  inquiry,  confront  him  with  his  accusers,  and,  after  a  reg- 
ular examination,  decide  whether  his  religious  privileges  shall  be 
suspended. 

Z  2 


270  NOTE. 

PersoDs  of  colour  are  exceedingly  desirous  to  partake  of  the  com- 
munion,  and,  when  their  wish  is  definitely  expressed,  join  a  clasa 
and  become  seekers  in  any  church,  and  under  any  leader  they  prefer. 
The  jealousy  between  blacks  and  mulattoes  is  very  great ;  and  al- 
though they  generally  unite  cordially  in  religious  services,  I  have 
known  brown  people,  as  they  are  termed,  feel  too  great  a  contempt  for 
a  black  leader  to  become  a  class-member.  Months,  often  years, 
elapse  before  a  seeker  is  considered  a  fit  subject  by  the  leader  to  be 
presented  to  his  pastor  as  a  candidate  for  the  communion.  When  au 
appearance  of  correct  morality  and  pious  feeling  authorizes  this 
measure,  he  undergoes  a  private  examination  relative  to  his  religious 
views  and  wants.  Should  the  seeker  be  a  slave,  the  minister  requires 
a  certificate,  which  may  testify  to  the  good  character  of  the  appli- 
cant. After  this  scrutiny  is  satisfactorily  passed,  the  seeker  is  pub- 
licly baptized  and  admitted  to  the  Lord's  Supper.  The  catechumen 
is  attended  to  the  font  by  his  leader  and  a  few  brethren  or  sisters,  and 
it  is  an  affecting  spectacle  to  see  the  sympathetic  and  sometimes 
longing  faces  that  bend  over  the  side  gallery  appropriated  to  the  col- 
oured people. 

According  to  the  calculation  in  the  Christian  Almanac  of  1826,  the 
number  of  coloured  communicants  in  fifteen  churches  in  Charleston 
was  4334. 

Seats  are  placed  for  the  coloured  communicants  in  the  aisles  of 
the  church  on  sacrament-day,  and  they  are  usually  waited  on  by  the 
senior  deacon  ;  some  clergymen,  in  order  to  allow  those  who  cannot 
read  a  more  personal  interest  in  the  service,  repeat  only  two  lines 
of  the  hymn  at  a  time,  as  at  their  private  meetings. 

Tokens,  according  to  the  Presbyterian  form,  are  distributed  to  his 
class  by  each  leader,  a  custom  more  necessary  to  prevent  encroach- 
ments among  them  than  it  is  probably  in  the  Scotch  church. 

Their  funerals  are  conducted  with  great  ceremony.  A  subscrip- 
tion in  each  church  enables  them  to  purchase  a  set  of  hoods  and 
scarfs,  which  are  kept  by  one  of  the  members,  for  the  use  of  all  its 
classes.  Scarfs  are  mantles  of  black  or  white  cambric  or  silk,  ac- 
cording to  the  sex  and  condition  or  age  of  the  deceased,  about  three 
yards  long,  which  are  thrown  over  the  shoulders  of  the  males,  and 
fastened  under  the  opposite  arm.  The  officiating  minister,  clerk, 
pall-bearers,  and  mourners,  have  this  costume  among  the  whites. 
Hoods  are  a  yard  and  a  half  of  similar  fabric,  slightly  basted,  and 
thrown  over  the  bonnets  of  the  females.  This  expensive  fashion  is 
declining,  though  hoods  certainly  possess  the  advantage  of  screen- 
ing the  countenance,  saving  that  miserable  consultation  for  which 


NOTE.  271 

?lie  fashion  Of  a  bonnet  often  calls  on  this  sad  occasion,  and  being 
convenient  in  the  early  sepulchral  rites  of  this  warm  climate. 

The  leader  of  the  class  to  which  the  deceased  belongs  heads  the 
funeral  procession,  and  performs  a  ceremony  at  the  grave  or  house, 
as  is  most  expedient,  which  generally  consists  of  prayers,  hymns, 
and  exhortations.  There  are  several  burial-places  hired  or  pur- 
chased among  them  by  common  subscription,  to  prevent  the  neces- 
sity of  interment  in  the  Strangers'  Burying-ground,  otherwise  called 
the  Potter's  Field. 

j  Sometimes,  when  an  old  and  respectable  slave  dies,  the  master 
requests  his  own  clergyman  to  officiate ;  it  is  also  occasionally  the 
dying  request  of  some  of  the  coloured  people,  and  a  clergyman  never 
refuses.  They  consider  it  a  privilege  to  watch  with  a  corpse,  and, 
before  some  abuses  rendered  it  necessary  to  prohibit  their  meeting 
at  night,  it  was  a  solemn  and  exciting  sound  to  wake  from  sleep  and 
hear  their  hymns  swelling  on  the  air  with  unbroken  enthusiasm,  as 
they  kept  their  solemn  vigils.  They  are  very  ambitious  on  the  sub- 
ject of  death,  influenced,  perhaps  imperceptibly  to  themselves,  by 
the  thought  of  the  level  to  which  it  reduces  all.  Decent  grave- 
clothes  and  a  private  burying-ground  are  their  highest  ambition.  I 
once  asked  a  faithful  servant  who  was  in  perfect  health  what  pres- 
ent 1  should  make  her,  and  she  replied,  with  great  solemnity,  "  Some 
cambric  to  make  me  a  shroud,  I  thank  you." 

The  funerals  of  slaves  not  connected  with  any  church  are  arranged 
by  their  owners  "  decently  and  in  order."  The  coffin  of  an  infant  is 
generally  placed  in  a  chaise,  covered  with  a  white  cloth,  and  the 
mourners  walk  in  procession  at  the  side. 

Their  marriages  have  all  the  varieties  of  our  own,  from  great  form 
to  primitive  simplicity.  Some  of  the  free  blacks  are  so  respectable 
t|gt  clergymen  go  to  their  houses  to  perform  the  ceremony,  and  in 
scarcely  a  point,  of  etiquette  will  they  differ  from  their  blonde  superi- 
ors. Frequently  a  plated  basket  with  cake,  directed  to  individuals, 
is  sent  round  by  a  coloured  couple  the  day  after  their  wedding.  The 
most  common  usage,  however,  is  for  the  couple  that  are  to  be  mar 
ried  to  go  attended  by  six  or  eight  groomsmen  and  bridemaids  to  the 
house  of  their  pastor  after  dark.  The  bride  is  always  dressed  in 
white,  generally  with  an  ornamented  turban,  and,  not  ^infrequently, 
her  head  decorated  with  flowers,  or  the  favourite  brida'  ornament,  a 
veil.  The  glove  is  drawn  off  in  great  form  by  the  bridemaids,  and 
the  ceremony  concludes  with  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand  from  the 
minister.  After  the  marriage  the  party  assemble  together,  and,  if 
they  have  tickets  of  permission  from  their  owner  and  a  white  spec- 


J 


272  NOTE. 

tator,  they  may  stay  until  twelve  o'clock — if  not,  the  roll  of  the  drum 
at  ten  in  the  summer,  or  nine  o'clock  in  the  winter,  recalls  them  to 
their  home. 

Every  church  has  its  Sunday  school  for  children  or  adults,  or 
both,  taught  by  whites,  and  seats  are  provided  for  them,  during  the 
Sabbath  service,  in  the  galleries. 

The  communion  members  and  seekers  of  many  churches  feel  au 
thorized  to  attend  the  family  prayers  of  their  pastor,  and  often,  on 
Sunday  mornings  particularly,  a  large  number  attend  around  a  piazza 
or  a  yard,  and,  when  the  domestic  circle  is  formed,  enter  and  seat 
themselves  quietly  on  their  own  benches,  which  they  bring  with 
them,  or  on  the  humblest  seat  they  can  find.  Then,  after  joining 
heartily  in  the  singing,  of  which  they  are  very  fond,  kneeling  in 
prayer,  and  listening  to  the  Scriptures  with  profound  attention,  they 
individually  recognise  the  pastor  and  his  family,  and  retire. 


THE    END. 


[May,  1838. 

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Sketches  and  Eccentricities  of  Col.  David  Crockett. 
In  one  volume,  12mo. 

Scenes  in  our  Parish.     By   a  "  Country   Parson's" 

Daughter.    In  one  volume,  12mo. 

The  Life,  Character,  and  Literary  Labours  of  Samuel 

Drew,  A.M.     By  his  eldest  Son.     In  one  volume,  12mo. 

The  Life  of  Mrs.  Siddons.  By  Thomas  Campbell. 
In  one  volume,  12mo.    With  a  Portrait. 

Observations  on  Professions,  Literature,  Manners,  and 
Emigration,  in  the  United  States  and  Canada.  By  the  Rev.  Isaac 
Fidler.    In  one  volume  12mo 


;*! 


*MlMMt 


iKiirUiniwi!' 


